


Tip the Scales

by aleria



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon Universe, Crossdressing, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, Pining, Slow Build, can I get a hallelujah, canon violence, friends-to-lovers, gays in space, it's like an episode, not too serious, rivals-to-friends, sort of fun and fluffy, where they get together at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-15 14:44:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleria/pseuds/aleria
Summary: One thing Lance was sure of: he had to even the score.But how?





	1. Chapter 1

If Keith hadn’t seen Lance cry, this would never have happened. 

The scales in their impossibly complex battle of the male egos had been irrevocably tipped by that one, embarrassing moment. The neverending mental sparring match ebbed and flowed in favour of each paladin, sometimes favouring Keith, and other times allowing Lance his small victories. Each day the points were tallied and one of them was able to hold themselves a little higher than the other, and stare down with satisfaction and smugness at he who lost the match. But the next day the battle would be won by the other, and so on.

If Lance managed to beat Keith in a training simulation, that was his battle for the day, and he could laud it over him until the dark-haired Paladin retreated to his room. 

The next day Keith would be chosen by Shiro to perform a complex and dangerous task, and the _looks_ that he would give Lance were unbearable.

But there was no going back from this one.

Lance had tried-- lord, he had tried to keep it to himself. Real men were not supposed to cry, right? They suppressed their emotions and punched each other in the face instead. Crying was for children, not manly Paladins who fought for the justice and peace of the universe. What was there to feel sad about, anyway?

A lot, apparently.

Lance was, admittedly, very lonely. So when Allura and Coran announced to everyone that they were going to try to visit Earth-- yes, _that_ Earth-- he was ecstatic. More than ecstatic, he was jubilant, excited, cry-for-joy happy. (Ok, men are _allowed_ to cry for joy.)

He got to work immediately making plans. They had a rare window of time to load up, drop off on the surface of Earth, pay their respects, then get back on the castle to continue their mission. The pretense-- because Lance was sure Allura was just sick of their whining about missing their home planet-- was to restock and resupply.

And boy, would Lance resupply. He was going to go positively berserk in a grocery store, or maybe even a bulk barn or maybe even a liquor store. 

Hell, he would have settled for a convenience store in the middle of the desert. 

And then there were the visits. He calculated that if he used Blue, he could probably visit all of his extended family within a few days. He’d start at home, obviously, and make a spiralling trip outwards from there, visiting each family home based on a careful algorithm of spatial proximity, bloodlines, and cooking ability. He would bring them all souvenirs, of course-- abuela would be crazy for the edible goo-- and he spent a serious amount of time taking selfies that he would print and leave on each mantle, to remember him by. 

All in all, the planning took nearly a day.

It also took nearly a day for the plans to come crumbling down.

The Galra were watching Earth, Coran told them all. They had set up a rudimentary outpost on the dark side of the moon. They knew that the first lion had been found on Earth. They knew that the paladins had family there and if the castle showed up, it would only lead the Galra to those families. Earth would have to wait until the Galra had been defeated, and the galaxy liberated. 

“I know you are all disappointed,” said Allura in her best princess voice. “But someday you will return to Earth as heroes.”

Lance didn’t stay to see how disappointed everyone else was. It’s hard to be sympathetic when your own feelings are rising up like a tsunami. He bit his tongue before he could say something scathing, and fled the bridge instead.

To say he was disappointed would be an understatement. Even ‘devastated’ didn’t seem to scratch the surface. He was filled to the brim with a mixture of anger, sadness, longing and loneliness. 

And that was how Keith found him.

Their rooms shared a hallway, after all. If only Lance had managed those last staggering steps to the privacy of his room before that smug jerk had to show up. 

“Lance?”

The blue paladin started at his name, but didn’t turn around. He tried to gather himself, pushing down the feelings and swallowing the big lump that was rising in his throat.

“Yeah, what?” he snapped, because anger seemed like the most dignified of the emotions to leave on his tongue. He turned to face Keith, hating the look of concern on his dumb face. He almost wanted the red paladin to start laughing at him. Somehow, that would have been easier.

“I know how much you wanted to go to Earth…”

Lance wanted to punch him. Who needed his stupid sympathy? How could he understand what it was like to be used to calling your family every day for your whole teenaged life? And before that, there wasn’t a day that he didn’t have a meal with some collaboration of his extended family. He was so used to those ties that the space between them-- the vast, emptiness between the castle and Earth-- were making him wonder if they were even still there.

“I don’t care,” Lance lied. He tried his confident voice, but it was cracking under the pressure of holding it all in. “Like the Princess said: next time we go back, we’ll be _heroes_ …” His voice definitely cracked at that last word and like the weak rock in a damn, the word broke him and the emotions came tumbling out.

He was crying, and Keith just stood there watching him and probably feeling so very proud of himself for not looking so pathetic in comparison. Lance tried to wipe away the tears but they just kept falling.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said soothingly, as if he was talking to a child. Lance couldn’t stand it anymore. He crossed the gap to his bedroom door and pressed the button furiously. The thing about these space doors is that they are impossible to slam, but if they could-- hoo boy. Instead Lance watched the door slide serenely closed, blocking off the view of Keith’s worried face.

\-----------

One thing Lance was sure of: he _had_ to even the score. 

The worst part was that Keith didn’t mention anything the next day. He took the high road and didn’t even try to tease Lance about his emotional breakdown. He didn’t need to; Lance found himself shrinking in embarrassment at the memory and avoiding Keith’s gaze at all costs. It was unbearable and Lance promised himself that he would get even.

But how?

Usually the easiest way to jab at Keith was to make him angry. The guy had a short fuse and it took very little to set him off. But anger wasn’t enough-- anger was nothing to crying. No, Lance would find another way.

“A mission?” asked Shiro at the dinner table after a particularly tiring training simulation. They were all eating ravenously, despite the off putting colour of the particular combination of space jellies that Coran had put together. 

“Yes,” Allura went on, eating as daintily as ever. “Although, it’s a diplomatic one. There should be no need for fighting, if everything goes smoothly.”

“Which means there will be fighting,” supplied Hunk with a sigh through his meal.

“Not if you all do as I say and act like adults.” There was something in the way she was holding up her chin that made Lance think she was acting even more regal on purpose.

“Well, that leaves Lance out, then,” said Keith and Lance shot him a look. Normally, this sort of banter was expected and he would be ready with a comeback, but his ego hadn’t recovered yet and all he managed was a glare.

Allura put her fork down and poked at the air. A hologram of a planet illuminated at her touch, rotating gently. Three moons orbited at different planes. “Horocron,” she supplied. She pressed at the planet in a seemingly random location, and the hologram zoomed in to an advanced looking city. Little hologram ships whizzed over the tops of the narrow skyscrapers. “According to the intel from our friend on Nuatuma 3, this is where we will find the rebels.”

“A planet like that must be crawling with Galra,” Shiro said seriously.

“The Horocronians have an alliance with the Galra, it is true. They manufacture ship parts for the empire and enjoy some degree of freedom for their compliance. The rebels here are spies, using this tentative alliance as a place to gain information.”

“So we’ll need to make contact with them,” Coran chimed in happily. “On the surface.”

“Why does that make me nervous?” Pidge muttered, eyeing Coran’s obvious glee.

“No need, number 5! This will be an easy mission, albit one that takes finesse. The Horocronians are a very proper society, even amongst their rebels. We will be making our contact at a party. To be more specific, a gala!”

There was a collective groan around the table, and even Shiro looked uncomfortable. But, always the man with his mind on the mission, he sighed and nodded. “Alright, sounds easy enough. We’ll go to this party and shake hands-- or whatever. Meet the contact, and then leave. Right team?”

“Well, it’s not that simple,” Allura admitted.

“Here it comes,” said Lance, who decided he had been entirely too quiet this whole time. This talk of a mission and a fancy party had made him forget, for now, his own problems.

Coran was actually _giggling_ so they all looked expectantly at him. Allura heaved a breath and dropped her chin on her hand. “Go ahead, Coran.”

“Well,” he said, coughing and trying to regain his composure. “The proper way for you to attend a party-- that is to say, the expectation is--” He cleared his throat to cover his loss for words.

“It’s a same-sex culture,” Allura supplied, looking a little annoyed. “300 years ago their society nearly collapsed due to overpopulation. It took an overhaul of their values and culture to control the numbers, and now being with someone of the opposite gender is unheard of. It is seen as crass and barbaric to be with someone you could reproduce with, and in a society where manners are important, this is taken very seriously.”

The paladins all seemed to be at a loss for words. No one was thinking about Earth anymore.

“B-but how do they reproduce?” Pidge finally asked, somehow being the most mature one in the group.

“Artificially,” Allura supplied. “It’s brilliant, really.”

“And how does this affect our mission?” Shiro asked slowly, as if he already knew the answer.

Coran and Allura exchanged a look that could mean anything. “Well, those who are coming on the mission will have to pair off. I will be there, obviously. And Shiro, I think you should, too. The rest…”

“Nope,” said Pidge flatly, before anyone even looked in her direction. “Not going to happen. Definitely not.”

“Pidge, be reasonable--” started Allura.

“I refuse,” said Pidge fiercely, which made everyone sit up straight. 

“Well, Allura doesn’t have to have a partner, does she?” asked Shiro, hoping to smooth over the tension.

“It’s expected,” Allura said with a frown. “A single person at a social gathering is a scandal. The aim here is to bring the least amount of attention to ourselves. You will need a partner, too, Shiro.”

They exchanged looks around the table. Lance found himself glancing from paladin to paladin, wondering if they all felt as awkward as he did. Pidge was looking at her food furiously, Hunk had his usual worried expression, Shiro was embarrassed and Keith--

Keith was staring at Shiro from across the table. His eyes were serious and focused, like he had locked onto a target in his lion. It was as though he was trying to communicate with Shiro mentally, but the black paladin wasn’t making eye contact with anyone.

And then it clicked. Shiro was Keith’s greatest weakness. He worshiped the guy. He would do any number of embarrassing or dangerous things if Shiro asked him too. He would follow him to the ends of the universe.

“Well, I think it’s obvious who the lucky guy will be,” Lance drawled, putting on his best seducing voice. He stretched his arm around Shiro who flinched noticeably. “Shiro, babe, if you ask me, I might have to say ‘yes’.”

Hunk, who had started to eat to cover his own embarrassment, laughed and started to choke. Pidge’s laugh sounded more sarcastic and Coran was loudly mirthful. Keith only glared and Lance felt a wide smirk grow on his face.

“Number one smoothest socialite and best dancer besides,” Lance drawled on, savouring the daggers that Keith was throwing with his eyes. “I think I can convince a bunch of stuck up aliens that I am the best boyfriend around.”

“That’s--” Shiro started, only just recovering from the awkwardness. “Fine, Lance will do. Just-- maybe don’t lay it on so thick.”

“Oh, I’ll let you lay it on thick,” Lance shot back in a low voice, waggling his eyebrows. Shiro buried his face in his hands and groaned, Pidge started to _actually laugh_ , and someone fell off their chair. 

When they had recovered, Allura was thinking. “That leaves me without a partner,” she said, almost looking a little sad that no one was jumping to accompany her. 

“Well, besides Pidge, we don’t have any other girls.” Shiro said, looking around the table. “Unless--”

“Yes!” Lance said with triumph. Suddenly, his plan for reclaiming his ego and gaining the upperhand over Keith was skyrocketing towards success. He nearly jumped to his feet. “Someone will have to dress up!” The look of horror on the remaining paladin’s faces was beautiful. “Hunk-- sorry, I don’t think you would pass.”

“No offense taken,” said Hunk, putting his hands up. “I am as manly as they come.”

“That leaves--”

“No!” Keith was on his feet, hands on either side of his plate. “Absolutely--”

“Keith,” Allura said, and her voice was like a whip. “This is a mission, not some game. Everyone will do their part. You are just as obligated to help as Pidge.” Keith cringed under the force of her words.

“We’ll toss a coin,” said Shiro, always the voice of reason. “Tails is Pidge, heads is Keith.”

Oh, this was going _so_ much better than planned.


	2. Chapter 2

Keith looked in the mirror and reflected on how much he had changed since he joined team Voltron. I mean, he had _literally_ changed, but that wasn’t what gave him pause. Before he found the others, before he had rescued Shiro, he had been a different person. He had been a loner, by design and by choice. He rarely collaborated with others and took great lengths to avoid crowds. 

But since then, he had been forced to change his ways. And gradually, he even sought the company of his team. He listened to others, took orders, gave suggestions, and cooperated when his pride allowed.

Where was his pride now? It was buried under a heaping mountain of do-it-for-the-team. 

Physically, he looked completely different. Allura was a master of her craft, with otherworldly tools of camouflage and deception at her disposal. Not only had she dressed Keith up as a girl, but she had also managed to make him look like another species entirely. Apparently Horocronians were very human-like, with subtle differences in their skin tone, ears, and so on. Allura went on about the differences in body type and the shape of the face, but decided that superficial changes would be enough to fool anyone who happened to look their way.

It helped that Keith was green. His skin looked like the inside of an avocado, changed with an Altean device that Pidge had altered. He was also fitted with wide, bat-like ears studded with a number of rings. The strangest to see, however, was the way Allura had changed his hair. Some combination of extensions, clips and ties resulted in a style that was overwhelmingly feminine. His black hair (was it all his?) fell around his shoulders and his bangs were pulled away from his face in some kind of braid that knotted at the back of his head.

The results were unsettling to say the least.

“You look _fine_ ,” Allura insisted after the third time that Keith had tried to escape. “It’s a disguise, Keith. Just think of it as wearing an invisibility suit.”

“Only everyone can see me,” Keith muttered, knowing how much he sounded like a petulant child. 

“You need to be seen,” Allura countered. “I need you by my side so that I can properly make my introduction to our contact. If all goes well, you won’t even need to speak. Just stand there are look pretty…”

Keith let a embarrassed noise squeak out of his throat and tried again for the door. Allura stopped him-- how was she so _strong_?

Allura, already beautiful in her Horocronian gown and green besides, eventually let go of Keith, because, she said, it was time to go. Suddenly he wanted nothing more but to stay in the room.

In the end, it was Shiro that coaxed him to out. The black paladin had this way of talking that could calm a rabid bear, and Keith was very nearly as wild. “Keith, I need you on this mission,” he said from the other side of the door. “If things go south, you and Lance will need to support us. You can’t do that from in there.”

Of course, it turned out the whole team was on the other side of the door, and the look on their faces was enough to make Keith flush. He didn’t think of himself as the kind to get embarrassed easily, but really, this was more than a little embarrassing. This was humiliating. And now he was turning red and looking even more shy.

After a stunned silence, Keith was forced to look up from the ground. Predictably, it was Lance that broke the mood with a low whistle. “Hot damn!” he said. “Allura, you are bea-uu-ti--ful!” Hunk stifled a laugh with a snort as Allura delicately stepped around Keith.

“That’s enough staring,” she said promptly. “We are arriving at the third moon where we will hide the castle. We will enter the city on the dropship that Pidge scavenged from the Galra disposal cluster. Lance, Shiro, Keith-- with me.”

Keith fell behind the others, already finding it hard to move in the stiff Horocronian gown without his legs locking up from anxiety. Shiro led the way, though by the looks of things, he was little less comfortable. The suit he wore was close-fitting, like they belonged to someone smaller than himself. His skin had been changed blue, as was the colour of all Horocronians, and the ears stood out more than any Altean.

And then there was Lance. As much as Keith tried to walk behind the others, the smug bastard kept slowing down and leaning towards Keith to look him full in the face. Lance’s expression was merciless, grinning from ear to ear and looking like a father at his favourite daughter's wedding. He never said anything, which made Keith all the more frustrated. 

Finally, in the dropship, he snapped. “Say something,” he barked, making them all turn towards him in surprise.

“There are no words,” Lance said simply and serenely. Keith resisted the urge to punch him full in the face.

The only respite was the grand moment when they arrived at their destination. From the windows of the ship they could see the sparkling lights of the city lit against the darkness that crept over this side of the planet. Shooting stars darted this way and that: ships traveling the city’s airspace. It was marvelous, and even Lance tore himself away to watch the approach.

The building where the Gala was being held was magnificent. It was tall and black as obsidian. Each window, of which there were hundreds, was coloured purple or red in a seemingly random configuration. A wide, shallow staircase led to enormous arches, lined up to create a tunnel leading to the entrance. From the first arch hung glittering strands of silk which turned out to be thin waterfalls which transformed to a faint mist before they reached the head’s of patrons below.

A glamorous array of Horocronians made their way to the entrance in pairs. Their gowns and suits were in all colours and fashions, some with lights that illuminated the ground around them, others with feathers or furs from creatures unknown.

All of the pairs were matched up: green women linked arms with one another and blue men held hands. Keith felt Allura fall in step beside him as he gazed up at the building. “Darling,” she said lightly, making him jump. She was smiling when he looked over, and she took her cue to lock hands with him. Keith resisted the impulse to pull away.

Lance wasted no time in sliding an arm around Shiro’s waste. “You look beautiful tonight, sweetheart,” he drawled and Keith was surprised he didn’t look back to gloat. Maybe, after all, Lance was the best actor in the group. Shiro seemed to grimace, but artfully pulled away to link arms with his partner. 

“Let’s do this then.”

To say it was a fancy party would be an understatement. It was far beyond any country shindig or village fair that other planets invited the paladins to. Everything _glittered_ , from the strange lights on the high ceiling, to the rings on the Horocronian ears, to the strange, purple drink that was being served in tall thin flutes. There was music being played by a quartet that sounded strangely familiar, and a sort murmur in the crowd that was polite and graceful. 

“If anyone greets you, be sure to touch your chin,” Allura was saying in a quick, quiet voice. “And be humble. If a woman compliments you, deny it at all costs. Don’t eat anything that is handed to you-- take it off the tray yourself. Don’t touch anyone’s ears, even by accident. And do _not_ talk about the Galra. Maybe I should have said that first.” Keith, who was starting to worry he had forgotten half of what she said, swallowed thickly.

“I greet you,” said a Horocronian man, stepping up to Shiro and Lance with a smooth movement. “Welcome to my home. I am Roash Inguar. We always look forward to new company.”

Lance and Shiro touched their chins obediently. “Roash my man, you really know how to throw a party!” said Lance, making them all cringe. Roash, however, looked pleased. 

“Oh, no, this is but a humble gathering. You are too kind.”

“My name is Shiro. Thank you for welcoming us to your home.”

But Roash was still watching Lance, and he seemed to barely hear Shiro. “What is your name?”

“Lance, but you can call me whatever you’d like.” So much for not laying it on thick. Keith heard Allura make a quiet noise of disgust. Shiro looked panicked, and watched the Horocronian with his mouth open.

To everyone’s surprise, Roash laughed. “You are the flirt, aren’t you, Lance?” He turned to scoop up a drink and handed it to the grinning paladin. “I think you will be well liked tonight.”

“Impossible. I am only a simple Horocronian,” said Lance with forced humility. Roash looked overwhelmingly impressed. 

“Come, you must meet my friends. If your partner does not mind.” He made a unintelligible gesture to Shiro, who had no choice but to nod dumbly. 

Allura stepped forward as Lance was led away. “Keith, follow him and make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble. Shiro, I need your help to find our contact. We’ll meet back here in an hour. Keith,” She turned to face him square. “Don’t let him flirt with any women.”

Great. A night of babysitting Lance while dressed like a princess. Talk about taking one for the team…

Following Lance was easier than finding the sun in the blue sky. He was making no effort at subtlety and laughed openly with any Horocronian to give him a second glance. He was annoyingly popular, and it took very little time for a small crowd of men to have gathered around him. Somehow all of those bad jokes and cheesy pickup lines turned out to be honey for the Horocronians and they basked in his glow.

Keith leaned on a table, not caring how unladylike he appeared. The ears were making his neck sore and the weight of the gown was wearing on his body. He watched for ten minutes… twenty minutes… half an hour, before Lance excused himself to seek the buffet table at the far end of the room. Keith followed, almost glad to be on the move again.

Just then someone bumped into Keith from behind, and already off balance, he toppled forward into a woman. He narrowly missed touching her ears as she threw his arms up to steady himself on her.

“I say!” she said with exaggerated disdain, looking embarrassed and horrified. 

“I’m-- I’m sorry,” Keith managed, righting himself and walking away from the incident as quickly as possible. He caught the look of several others watching him, as if they could see right through his disguise. He felt himself colouring, and forced himself to walk a little quicker. 

_I’m no good at this_ , he thought miserably. He looked around for Lance, as though he was a lighthouse in a storm, but the blue paladin had slipped away, no doubt to flirt with more of the Horocronian men. Keith caught himself before wishing, wistfully, that he could be more like Lance.

He looked down at his own hands, green and shaking with embarrassment. He could feel his chest squeezing, as if the eyes of everyone around him were pushing him further into himself. He was sure he looked so _weird_. They were judging him. They were wondering why someone had dressed him up like a girl. He was going to blow the mission.

Helplessly, he staggered away, seeking a tall, dark arch that showed the glittering city lights beyond. The air was cool outside, and a soft breeze tugged at his unnaturally long hair. There were fewer bodies out here, but he kept moving until he had found a quiet place to sit down and be alone.

This was how Lance found him. 

“I knew I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” said the tall paladin, standing over Keith where he practically huddled in the bushes. “Honestly, who thought I’d be on babysitting duty.”

“You!” Keith snapped, standing up quickly. “You’re the one who-- oh, nevermind.” He let out a loud and exasperated breath. “You’re getting along fine, I see.”

Lance sat down languidly, cradling a glass in one hand. “Yes, I’ve been known to shmooze pretty well at a function,” he said with no hint of humility now. “Back at the Garrison I was invited to all of the coolest parties.” Far from looking smug, he looked up at the dark sky, smiling like he was in his element.

“I didn’t go to any parties,” Keith admitted gruffly, wanting to add that he didn’t care and that parties were for children. But he didn’t have it in him. He sat down heavily on the edge of the stone planter beside Lance, feeling defeated.

“I guess I win then,” Lance mused before taking a delicate sip of drink.

Keith felt himself getting frustrated. “Is that what this is all about? Because of the crying?”

Lance looked uncomfortable, and let his shoulders hunch up defensively. “Who cares about that.”

“You, apparently,” Keith said accusingly, but he wasn’t about to tease someone for having emotions. Being able to cry was something he actually envied in others. He never had anyone worth crying over. “It’s not a big deal, you know.”

“Whatever,” Lance said stubbornly, suddenly all the pomp and ego drained out of him.

“I’m serious, Lance,” Keith insisted. “You miss your family-- I get that. You shouldn’t feel ashamed for feeling that way. I would love to feel that way.” He stopped abruptly at the last admission, not having meant to say it. Lance didn’t miss it, because he was looking at Keith in a strange way.

There was a moment of silence that Keith felt no need to fill. Lance was thinking, which was rare, and he let the strange night sounds dance around them. 

“You look good though,” Lance said finally. He was cracking a grin, which made Keith think he was back to his normal self.

Keith frowned, letting himself rise to the bait. “I’d like to see you try to pull off a dress,” he said with arms crossed over his chest. 

“Oh, a dress would look _fantastic_ on me,” Lance said with a stretch. He had finished his drink and was ready to stand up. “I look good in everything.” He offered a hand to Keith, which Keith ignored, standing up with some dignity on his own. 

“Except when you cry,” he countered, as he headed back to the gala hall. As he passed Lance, he was actually glad to see he was smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

Shiro studied the Horocronian woman, wearing a long sparkling orange dress and several shards of black stones as earrings. She had a severe look on her green face and kept looking around the room. 

_The eyes of a soldier_ , he noted. _She’s counted the exits three times now_.

“That’s definitely her,” Allura was saying, trying not to look directly at their quarry. “She’s probably seen us. It’s just a matter of time before she makes contact.”

Shiro sighed. “I don’t understand this. Why couldn’t we just have met in a dingy back alley or something?”

Allura looked down at her hands resting on the little round standing table. “It’s a test,” she said in a quiet voice. Shiro felt himself frown. “I didn’t tell the others because I didn’t want to make them more anxious than they already were. The rebellion here has seen the violence of the Galra and it goes against their peaceful way of life. I think they wanted to see if we were just as barbaric, or if we had any shred of diplomacy. We have to prove that we aren’t just a weapon.”

“I have to admit Voltron tends to do a lot of smashing,” Shiro conceded, but he was seeing her point. How many other societies would want to test their commitment to peace and freedom? 

“She’s coming,” Allura said suddenly, eyes wide and back straight. For all of her royal training, she still got as nervous as the rest of them. “Act cool, act cool.”

The woman arrived without a sound but the faint clinking of her earrings dancing together. “You are Allura,” she said in a flat voice. It was not a question. “And this one is a paladin of Voltron. Despite the stories, you have shown some grace tonight.”

Allura had recovered, and was wearing her princess face. “Della,” she said in a formal voice. “I greet you.” She touched her chin lightly-- a gesture that the woman Della mirrored. “This is Shiro of the black lion.”

“Your disguises are nearly complete,” the Horocronian observed. “Were I someone less intelligent, I may not have recognized you for what you are.” Neither Allura nor Shiro seemed to know what to say to that, so the woman went on.

“Now that I have seen your manners, now I wish to see your strength,” she went on. Reaching into the front of her gown, she started to extract a narrow envelope. 

Shiro was vaguely aware of a gasp and a soft ripple of murmur in the crowd around them. Suddenly alert, he looked around, wondering what social blunder they had made. But the faces were not trained to them, and he assumed another guest was drunk or something. Allura was looking around as well, and the woman Della had froze.

“How crude,” he heard someone nearby murmur, and curiosity forced him to look at what they were looking at. A few tables over he spotted Lance. He was leaning over, looking into the face of a Horocronian girl. No, not a girl. It was Keith.

“Shiro,” Allura hissed. He turned back around to see that their contact was slipped away. Allura was looking around frantically, cursing quietly in Altean. Her eyes darted over to Lance and Keith again, and they went wide. “Those idiots!”

Shiro looked back, but he wasn’t seeing what she was. There was no doubt they were doing something wrong, however, because the murmuring was picking up. 

“Do something,” Allura said in a desperate, low voice.

“I don’t--”

“He’s _flirting_ with Keith!”

Shiro looked back quickly. Ah, he hadn’t recognized it at first, maybe because he knew that the girl wasn’t a girl. Lance was leaning too far forward and smiling far too widely. Shiro had seen it countless times before.

“Stop him,” Allura said, and she grabbed Shiro’s arm for good measure. She was very strong.

“Alright, I’ll go talk--”

“No,” Allura hissed. She looked fiercely into Shiro’s face, her eyes ablaze. Shiro felt himself shrink under all that royal fury. “He’s your partner,” she said in a dangerously slow voice. “Make him remember that, or so help me I will roast both of you alive.”

Shiro swallowed hard, not doubting the princess in the slightest. He knew what he had to do, and for the sake of the mission, he had to do it. He righted himself, straightened his shirt, and marched over to Lance and Keith.

“Ah, Shiro!” Lance said as he approached, and from the small slur in his voice, the paladin had been drinking.

 

“Sweetheart,” Shiro said with no humour. “I think it’s time to go.”

“Aw, come on--”

Shiro cut him off in a way that would make Allura proud. He pressed his lips onto Lance’s, willing himself not to pull away too quickly and make the moment credible. When he did, he had to make an effort to maintain eye contact. “Let’s go.”

Lance, apparently too dazed for a comeback, allowed himself to be led away by hand. “I’ll be back,” Shiro said to Keith in passing. The red paladin looked no less shocked than Lance did, but Shiro did not let himself think about his pride, and pushed through the crowd to the coolness of the night.

By the time they reached the dropship, Lance had found his voice. “What the he--”

“What were you _thinking_?” Shiro snapped, feeling himself channeling Allura. Lance stepped back, dumbfounded. “This is a mission, Lance, not a frat party!”

Lance closed his mouth and managed to look a little ashamed. “S-sorry.”

“You promised not to make a scene,” Shiro went on. “This is exactly what we wanted to avoid.”

“I was just talking,” Lance muttered, studying the ground with a small pout. His meekness was making Shiro unravel and he heaved a sigh that let out the rest of his frustration.

“That’s all it takes for these people to judge you,” Shiro said in a gentler tone. “I’m-- I’m sorry I had to kiss you.”

Far from looking embarrassed, Lance rubbed his face and narrowed his eyes in thought. “It was like… kissing my father.”

Shiro frowned. “Wow. Thanks.”

“Or, maybe my uncle?”

“That is so much better.”

“...Or even a grandfather

“Ok, enough.” Shiro ran his good hand through his hair. At least Lance wasn’t traumatized. He would have to wait for Allura’s wrath for a proper punishment. “I am going back in there. You stay here so we can smooth things over with our contact.”

Lance was nodding, finally looking a little humble in the face of his actions. 

“And Lance?” Shiro said as an afterthought. “You should be careful. Someday your flirting is going to hurt someone.” He left before Lance could form a response.

Allura was waiting with Keith when he returned, and the party seemed to have continued in a calm manner. The Princess’ anger had turned to worry. “We have to find Della,” she said quickly. “It’s not too late.”

Shiro nodded, and looked at Keith. Even for him, he was being too quiet. He wondered if dressing him up had been a shave too much to ask. But far from embarrassed, Keith looked up and gave Shiro a look he had never seen before: anger.

“Keith?” he said, because he was too startled to think of anything else.

Keith turned away and grabbed a flute of drink from a passing waiter. He took a small drink, as if he didn’t really want to taste it. “You probably shouldn’t talk to me,” he said in his stubborn voice. “People might start to wonder.” He put down the glass, and walked resolutely to the buffet.


	4. Chapter 4

Lance stared across the castle kitchen at Keith, trying to unravel him like a drawer full of wires. He watched his movements carefully as he opened the storage unit, pulled out a carton of Altean nufflox eggs and put them on the counter.

There was something wrong this morning and the bad feeling came from Keith. 

Lance had felt just fine until now. They had returned to the ship without incident, except for the severe scolding Lance received from Allura. Actually, the scolding was an incident of itself, but he was making an effort to forget about her terrible rage until he could bring it back in his subconscious in the middle of the night.

He woke up as usual, back to his regular colour and in his comfortable clothing. He hummed a little song as he washed up and left his room. It wasn’t until he nearly collided with Keith in the hallway that the bad feeling began.

Calling it a bad feeling wasn’t really fair. It was more of a weirdness, mixed with something unsure and altogether different. It was only bad because Lance hadn’t managed to figure it out yet, but he was determined.

 _It’s something in his appearance_ , he decided after searching Keith’s morning face for several minutes. _He looks different. Only... not different._

It was a rare morning when most of them sat down together at the big table, no doubt wanting to hear more stories about the gala. Shiro was happy to give a formulaic, straightforward account, artfully leaving out the part when Lance had to be told off.

“What I don’t understand,” Hunk was saying. “Is why we haven’t heard a _Lance_ story yet.” Lance felt all eyes on him and he blinked in surprise. His gaze met Keiths and the red paladin narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Why are you staring at me?”

Lance took the moment to narrow his own eyes, searching the face across from him. _He definitely is back to his old self_ , he conceded. _So what has changed?_

Keith shifted in the uncomfortable silence. “Pidge, switch seats with me. Lance is creeping me out.”

From her spot at the head of the table, Pidge didn’t look up from her tablet. “And have him stare at _me_? No thanks.”

“Come on, Lance. Tell us the stuff Shiro is leaving out!” Hunk went on through a mouthful of green eggs. “Like, how many people fell in love with Keith?” Keith made a little impatient sound.

Lance pulled his eyes away to give Hunk a smooth look. “Keith? Forget that guy. You wanna know who the bell of the ball was?”

“Yeah, I’m sure they _loved_ you,” Pidge added sarcastically.

“Actually, he was the centre of attention. It was weird.” It was Keith who said this, leaning back in his chair with his hands crossed over his chest. 

Even Lance was surprised about his popularity last night. He was used to his advances being rebuffed, and no one seemed half as impressed with his pick-up lines as he was. He hadn’t even looked that good, wearing one of Coran’s old suits and sporting fake ears that barely passed muster. In the end, he hadn’t looked half so good as Keith.

 _Maybe that’s the problem_ , Lance thought suddenly, his eyes finding Keith again. Somehow, embarrassingly, Keith had made an extremely effective girl. Even Lance had to admit that he had the right face for it. 

He searched that face again, trying to picture what it looked like without that mess of bangs in the way. If only he’d move them out of the way, or tie them up. Surely Allura had hair ties lying around-- if Keith could just pull his bangs together into a little bun at the top of his head, what would he look like then? And why did Lance need to see so badly?

“Ugh, I’m leaving,” Keith muttered, standing from the table. 

“Where you going?” Lance said too quickly. “I’ll come with you.” Keith gave him a scathing look.

“Please don’t.”

“Come on, buddy. We were practically friends last night!”

Keith was ignoring him and putting his dishes away. 

“Leave him,” Shiro said before Lance could dart out of his chair. He looked directly at Lance, and the latter felt himself shrinking from the stern gaze. “You’re not out of hot water yet, Lance.”

“Wait, what does _that_ mean?” demanded Hunk. “There _is_ a better story! I want to hear it!”

“Yeah, you better spill,” Pidge said in a deadpan voice. “Or we’ll ask Allura. Don’t think we don’t  
have leverage on her.”

Shiro grimaced, but Lance was willing to call Pidge’s bluff. “Maybe when you’re older,” he said before turning his attention back to his bowl of space goo.

\----------------

There was no doubt in Keith’s mind that he was being stalked. On the best of days Lance managed to run into him once or twice, usually resulting in a quick exchange of verbal blows before they parted ways. They shared a hallway too, which there was no getting around. But Keith had made a concerted effort to go to all the places he was least likely to be found, and it was in one such place that Lance found him.

The weight room looked nothing like any Keith had access to back on Earth. It was sleek and white, with weights coming in the form of identically sized cubes. Somehow they all weighed different amounts and were fitted with a soft handle for lifting. He hadn’t quite gotten a handle on what the Altean numbers meant (or whether he would even recognize the measurements), so he laid them out after use, careful to remember which weight he wanted to advance to.

He knew no one else came here because the weights were always where he left them. And he had no doubt in his mind that Lance did not work out. 

And yet, Keith’s ears were alerted to someone walking down the hallway beyond the room. _He’s relentless!_ he thought with frustration. Lance had been acting too weird today, and Keith did not have the patience to figure him out. He had just barely managed to get used to the old Lance-- the one that teased and battled with him. He was actually warming up to their relationship. It was familiar and predictable, and somehow made him feel like he was home. He couldn’t even say he disliked Lance anymore. Far from it, he considered him a friend.

But Lance’s strange behaviour did not just start today. Gala-Lance was over-the-top and unfamiliar. Keith told himself it was all an act, or that it was the obviously alcoholic drink. He was hoping to wake up this morning to Lance being back to his old self. 

Instead, he was following Keith around and _staring_ at him.

Keith felt trapped in the weight room. There was one door to the hallway and with its cube shape, there wasn’t anywhere to hide. So instead he picked up the weight he was working with and tried to act like nothing was getting on his nerves.

“There you are!” It was Lance, of course. He voice was melodic-- he was in far too good of a mood. Keith felt himself brace for something.

“I’ve never been in here,” Lance was saying conversationally, though Keith refused to turn around and acknowledge him. “This is probably how you beat me in training simulations so often, huh?” His voice was coming nearer and Keith tensed more with each step. 

“Not exactly hard,” Keith grunted, lifting the weight. He had picked up the wrong size, and it was an effort to curl without making sounds. 

“Listen, buddy, I need you to do me a favour.” Surprised, Keith finally turned on his seat to face Lance. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Lance had his hands casually in his pockets, but he looked slightly discontent, like something was bothering him.

“That depends,” Keith said slowly. He knew better than to agree to help Lance without finding out what he was agreeing to. The last time it ended up with his having to deliver news to Allura that the mice had made a nest out of her favourite dress.

Lance took out one of his hands. His fingers were entwined in some sort of elastic or ribbon. He was narrowing his eyes and looking Keith over, as if sizing him up. Keith felt himself shiver involuntarily. “I need you to put up your hair.”

“What?”

“Your bangs, mostly. Just, like, make a little bun at the top. Or actually, I can do it for you. I did my sister’s hair enough times.”

Keith was leaning back, feeling a little more than alarmed. “What-- why would I let you do that?”

“It will only take a tick!” Lance was moving forward slightly, raising both hands as if he was going to catch Keith like a cat.

“Lance, go away!” 

“Come on, buddy. Just this one thing, then you can take it _right_ out.”

“Don’t touch my hair, you weirdo!” Keith jumped to his feet to back up, and Lance took that chance to lunge at him, all the while reassuring him that it would _only take one second!_ He managed to tackle him and Keith toppled over the soft stool he had been sitting on. They fell in a pile on the mat behind them.

“Get off me, you freak!” Keith yelled, pushing with all of his might. But Lance caught his arm and they wrestled for control. 

“Just let me do this!”

“No!”

Keith managed to flip Lance onto his back, but the taller paladin was all long arms and legs and managed to wrap around Keith torso with his appendages. They rolled over once, twice, until they bumped into a case of weights. Keith had Lance in an arm bar, but then Lance pushed at Keith’s face. 

They wrestled in this way until Lance somehow managed to pin Keith by straddling his chest and deftly putting a weight on his hands in an awkward position above his head. Before Keith could summon the strength to push the weight off, Lance piled another on with grunt.

“Just-- hold-- still--” With practiced swiftness, Lance was pulling Keith’s bangs up out of his eyes and wrapping the elastic around them to form a limp ponytail.

“Aha!” he crowed triumphantly.

Defeated, Keith let his head fall back on the mat. He lay panting, not feeling quite as frustrated as he knew he should be. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Lance was not looking smug at all. He had a look on his face that was even stranger than any Keith had seen so far.

“What?” Keith snapped, which made Lance suddenly scramble off of him. With his body free, Keith managed to shift the weight off of his hands and free himself. He sighed as he sat up, the breath coming back to him but his face still feeling flushed from the effort of wrestling.

He pulled the elastic out with a decisive tug and chucked it at Lance’s retreating back. “You jerk!” he called, but he was met with silence and the soft swish of the door sliding closed.


	5. Chapter 5

The information from Della on Horocron had been good. She had divulged the locations of key shipping ports and warehouses used by the Galra in the system. These locations, she said, would disrupt their collection of ship and weapon parts. If the ports themselves could be destroyed, the Garla would be severely crippled, and it would take years to rebuild. In the meanwhile, the rebellion could garner political and social support in order to destroy the rest of the alliance from the inside. That was the long term plan, anyway.

It was complicated and in the end Lance got the impression that Allura and Shiro were blindly following Della’s instructions like a map. ‘Just point us in the right direction’, they seemed to say. ‘So long as this is in pursuit of peace and justice.’

And the paladins blindly followed the Princess and Shiro. It was a no brainer: the Galra were enslaving a planet, the Horocronian rebels knew how to stop them, and Voltron was ready for action. Even Keith wasn’t arguing.

Lance had managed to avoid Keith the day of the mission. He loitered in his room long after waking, poked his head out of his door to check the hallway, slipped into the supplies room for cold rations (he liked them, anyway!) and hid himself in Blue’s hangar until it was time to suit up. 

Usually when he spent any time down here, Blue was quiet. She was a big machine, after all, albeit a magical soul-bonded one. Lance usually chattered out loud, assuming she could hear him anyway. 

Today, as Lance huddled in a corner chewing on the dried jerky he had found in storage, Blue was the one chattering. Or, at least purring, which was the only sound she really ever made. Lance tried to ignore her, because he could the distinct impression nothing she was saying was what he wanted to hear. 

He was trying not to listen to his own thoughts, either. The same images kept rolling through like a camera film and his mind kept screaming the same thing over and over. He had spent a sleepless night trying to make sense of it. He wanted to explain away his thoughts in a way that would be satisfying to everyone involved, but it had been impossible.

He was attracted to Keith. And not just girl-Keith. ACTUAL Keith. The one sitting across from him at the table and flying around like a daredevil in space and sleeping two doors down. The one with that annoying, smug look on his face. The one with the pout. 

Lance was never going to be able to face the red paladin again. He wondered if he could jump in Blue and take off somewhere. As if she heard his thoughts, Blue made a low rumble of dissent.

“Stop that,” he said out loud. He put down the empty packet and ruffled his hair in annoyance. “It’s bad enough I can’t get out of my own head without you in there too!” Blue managed to make a big robot sound offended, and Lance wanted to give her a sympathetic look, but he was too busy covering his face and groaning.

When it was mission time, Lance timed his entrance to the bridge at the same time as Hunk. “Where have you been all day?” asked his friend, fidgeting with a clasp on his suit. “Shiro wanted to go over the details.”

“I got this,” Lance said with forced confidence. “This mission is going to be a breeze!”

As they entered he tried not to look at Keith’s back, already suited up and wearing his helmet, and decided he definitely did not got _this_.

“You’ll be split into teams,” Allura began with all the authority of a princess. “Shiro and Hunk will be providing cover and diverting the defense systems. Pidge, Lance and Keith will fly to the shield generator building to shut it down. Pidge, you’ll be on your own after this, but we trust that you can manage the systems from there. Lance and Keith will infiltrate from there and plant the explosives at the core generator.”

“Without the core, the whole dock yard will be rendered useless. This is the spot where it hurts the most, because the cores take years to rebuild,” Shiro added, because he knew his paladins always needed a little extra explanation. 

“We’re approaching the launch point,” Coran told them from his control panel.

“Get to your lions, paladins!”

Somehow Lance was grateful for this mission. His mind was occupied with avoiding shots from the dock yard defenses, and he didn’t have to worry about that weird mind melding thing that seemed to happen when they were all together. Being alone with Blue was hardly better-- she kept prodding him, as if she had something she wanted him to do. Every so often she would take it upon herself veer over to the Red Lion, who was under heavy fire. Once she even bumped into him, which made Keith’s voice come over the communications.

_“Lance, watch it!”_

“Not my fault, Blue is being a bitch!” Lance shot back. 

_“Lance, don’t call your lion a bitch,_ ” Shiro reprimanded. “ _Blue, stop bumping into Red._ "

“Thanks Dad.”

Getting Pidge to the shield generator took some finagling. The small Galra fleet stationed here had no doubt been programed to protect the shield and ten minutes into the firefight the lions had all swarmed to the back of the building, making no effort to hide their intent. It finally took Hunk literally barreling into a turret for them to break the lines. After that, the green, blue and red lions made a beeline for their destination. 

Lance landed badly, taking off half the docking station when he crashed into it. He was fine, of course, his lion being made of tougher stuff than the base, but his ego being all the more bruised for it.

 _“Lance, stop fucking around and let’s go,”_ Keith reprimanded over the communicators. He was already jumping out of his lion. Lance felt a good-old rush of rivalry and scrambled join him. Pidge was already at the blast doors, ripping off a panel that protected a mess of complicated wiring. These were nothing to her and her tools, and in a moment, the doors started to open with a loud mechanical hum.

“Let’s go,” said Keith, because he always tried to be in charge when Shiro wasn’t around. Lance listened to him, because for all of his complaints, Keith was more qualified to lead than the rest of them. Something in his mind begged him to dissent, however. He was desperate to argue with him, but the oncoming fire from the sentries beyond stopped him.

With the help of the lions they cleared the first wave and entered the building. The architecture was the same as so many other Galra bases they had infiltrated so far. These people seemed to have a penchant for purple, and always reminded Lance of a scifi show he used to watch with his sister. The halls and rooms were similar to other layouts they had navigated, and the paladins could find their way already, somehow knowing which direction more sentries would come, or which direction they might find an exit.

Nonetheless, it took a few wrong turns before they found the operations room. Keith was all for running in guns blazing, taking out the officers who monitored the fight, before they knew what hit them. Lance wanted to wait and plan, not relishing the fact that they were outnumbered 3 to 7.

In the end it was level-headed Pidge who ducked her head out the door, pulled a device off of her belt, and tossed it in the room. Suddenly it was filling with a white-grey smoke, and Keith took his queue to dash inside and subdue the now blind Galra. Lance had no choice but to follow.

It was over in a heartbeat, the last Galra officer crumpling under the butt of Lance’s rifle. The ventilation system was already starting to pump the smoke out of the room, giving Pidge a chance at the control panel. “Keith, your hand,” she said, pointing out the identification pad. It was the only time they really talked about Keith’s background, and Lance often forgot until these such moments. If it bothered Keith, he didn’t show it.

“Alright, I’ve got it from here. The generator should be--” Pidge ran her finger along a layout that appeared on a screen in front of her. “Here. It looks like you can take the ventilation ducts there.” She dipped back over to the door of the room, where she accessed the wiring and did something alarmingly explosive to force it shut. “Go now.”

So much for Keith being in charge. They followed Pidge’s instructions and pulled off the grate to the air ducts where the smoke had recently disappeared. It was a tight fit, but neither Lance nor Keith were large people, and they shimmied in, weapons first. 

It was slow going, and the vents made a worrisome clang when their armored knees moved against the Galra metal. Keith was first, and Lance tried not to watch his progress from behind. Instead he concentrated on the mission: _get to the generator, plant the bombs, walk away dramatically while the Galra empire falls_. He wished he had a pair of aviators to complete the scene. That was, if Keith didn’t try to steal his thunder. He pictured Keith in aviators, and decided he was more of a Ray-Ban guy. Maybe with red frames. 

_Jesus, brain!_ Lance thought, mentally punching himself. _He’s not a goddamn dress-up doll!_

“Be quiet,” Keith said, because Lance must have involuntarily flinched. “Pidge, I just passed the 24 junction. How many more?”

“ _Let me check--Turn left next time you can. Then drop down after the third grate. It might say even say ‘Main Generator’ but I guess it would be in Galran. Can you read Galran?”_

“What the hell do you think?”

“ _Too bad. Well, the third, then._ ”

They turned and passed two grates, slowly, until they had wormed their way to the grate to the generator room. Keith stopped, no doubt surveying the room through the slits in the vent. “2 sentries, 3 Galra,” he said in the faintest of whispers. He started to work at the little screws that held the grate. “The moment this comes off we have to jump.”

“How the hell do you expect me to do that from back here?” Lance questioned, still trapped behind Keith. 

“Just move your ass! They won’t be surprised forever.”

Lance made an impatient noise and gripped his gun in one hand. The moment came too soon: there was a squeak and then silence as the grate free fell before crashing noisily on the ground below. Keith managed to slide out of the vent like some kind of snake, leaving Lance to awkwardly shimmy forward as fast as he could.

By the time he could see the room in full, Keith had already taken out one of the Galra engineers and was coming under fire from the sentries. There were more Galra and more than 2 sentries-- the door had opened and several more were waiting beyond. Lance aimed his gun, taking a breath and steadying himself in a way that would make Shiro proud (he would have to tell him about it later). He fired, hitting the door controls and blocking half the sentries from view. He fired again, and one of the remaining went down. 

Keith made a strangled noise, and Lance craned to see him being tackled by two of the engineers. He rolled forward, hoping to god that he was as nimble as he pretended to be. He did not judge the distance to the floor properly, but at that moment a sentry was moving forward and it broke his fall. Pain erupted in his shoulder where there was the bulk of the impact, but Lance recovered to quickly hammer the sentry with the butt of his rifle. _My bayard might as well by a mace_ , he thought randomly before leaping to join the battle.

He rolled forward, off of the metal body, and landed gracefully on one knee. He leveled his rifle to his eye and aimed carefully at one of the engineers. He tagged the Galra in the arm, and the man cried out and pulled away from Keith, giving the red paladin the respite he needed. He lept up, swung at the remaining Galra, and then threw his knife towards Lance. It missed him and came crashing into the last sentry that had somehow crept up behind Lance unnoticed.

“Thanks,” Lance said instinctively. 

“You too,” Keith replied with a hoarse voice. He was rubbing his neck through his helmet. “You OK?”

Lance considered the pain he had been ignoring in his shoulder. He tested his arm. It hurt, but he had the distinct feeling it would be worse later on. For now it still worked. “Let’s finish this.”

The engineer that Lance had shot was groaning on the floor, and Keith stepped over him lightly. The others were unconscious, and Lance wondered if they would be able to evacuate before the bomb went off. The idea of killing the Galra outright did not sit well with him. 

The generator was massive-- a huge contraption of spinning parts that made a constant din in the huge chamber. Lights on a long control panel winked at them, and next to this was a catwalk to the generator itself. Keith was walking towards this, still rubbing his neck.

“Are _you_ ok?” Lance asked.

“Those bastards have strong hands,” Keith said as a way of explanation. There was a click, and he was pulling off his helmet and shaking out his hair.

“Let me see,” said Lance, taking a step towards Keith. When Keith turned to him, he actually took a step back. “Whoah, whoah, whoah!” he said, putting a hand up. “What the hell is that.” He pointed at his bangs, which had been pulled back from Keith’s face and pinned up with what must have been some Altean form of bobby pins.

“What?”

“That!” Lance jabbed a finger towards Keith’s hair. “ _That_ is not fair!” 

“What the hell are you talking about, Lance?” Keith was sounding frustrated, and possibly a little embarrassed. 

_How dare you!_ Lance wanted to say. _How dare you make yourself look like that! How dare you make me-- uuuughauwghabsjawyow..._ He covered his face and crouched down, letting out sounds that he assumed made him sound like he was screaming underwater.

“My bangs are getting too long,” Keith supplied, and now he did sound embarrassed. “ _You_ made me realize that. Whatever, who cares. We have a mission. Help me with this.”

Lance couldn’t help but glare at Keith the whole time they worked, because damnit if he wasn’t going to hide all of his feelings under a healthy pile of male pride. Keith was silent, and pouting, and looking altogether too adorable.

Lance considered staying in the generator room when the bomb went off.

After planting the explosives, they blasted the main door open and took out the remaining sentries. Lance found himself flinging into battle a little too readily, if only because he wanted to be in front where he couldn’t see Keith. The unhindered juggernaut force that was the red and blue paladins plowed through any resistance and Pidge was noticeably alarmed when they tore down her door. “Come on, Pidge,” Lance all but yelled. “I am so done with this mission.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some chapters are huge, others tiny. My kingdom for some consistency!

Keith inspected his neck in the mirror again and grimaced. The dark bruises stood out against his pale skin, clearly outlining the desperate clutches of dying men. He knew he bruised easily, but these ones _hurt_. He ran a finger from his jawline down to the notch in the middle of his collar bone. He could spend some time in a healing pod, but it seemed like such a waste of resources for something so trivial.

He knew Lance was worse off. The blue paladin had hidden his shoulder as best he could, but there was no denying the way he moved lopsided, like one side weighed more than the other. He winced, too, when he thought no one was looking.

 _That idiot_ , Keith thought, not for the first time. Lance hadn’t been to a healing pod either, from the way he continued to favour his other arm. That boy needed to rein in his pride before he seriously injured himself. Keith tried to tell himself that it would be inconvenient to lose one of the paladins of Voltron. In truth, when he closed his eyes he saw Lance laying on the ground, unconscious as he had been when the castle was attacked on Arus, and it made his chest hurt to think about.

The hairpins that Allura had lent to Keith with a suspicious look now lay forgotten on the sparse desk in his room. _That_ had been a terrible idea. Sure, there was something to be said for not having swaths of black hair in his eyes all the time, but it was not the real reason that Keith had put his hair up.

There was no denying that Lance had been staring at him since the Horocron gala. It made Keith uncomfortable at first and he ignored it as best he could. But then Lance had ambushed him in the weight room and put a brand new thought in his head.

Ok, wrestling with Lance had actually been _fun_. Keith never had siblings, but he imagined that wrestling was a major part of bonding with other kids. There was something about the casual competition, physical contact and affectionate teasing that felt so natural. In the heat of the moment Keith felt a surge of brotherly love, underlying his usual annoyance.

But there was something so much more in Lance’s eyes when he finally managed to tie up Keith’s hair. His face was flushed-- and no wonder, they both had been giving it their all. His eyes were bright and full of life. And when Lance paused, Keith saw that his expression was serious. 

Keith’s instincts rushed him into an explanation: Lance wanted Keith to put up his hair. He liked it that way. He liked it in the way that Keith liked when Lance made finger-guns at him or teased him out of a mood. Lance liked Keith’s hair the way Keith liked Lance’s legs. 

A secret, guilty bubble of emotions that Keith had managed to shove way, way down inside was threatening to surface again. His imagination caught up with those forbidden feelings and suddenly he was remembering the wrestling match in a _much_ different context.

But apparently putting his hair up had only made Lance angry. Keith remembered Lance’s reaction with embarrassment and he had yanked out the pins almost the second he got back to his room. What the hell was he doing, anyway? There was no way Lance would ever turn his eye on a man in that way-- least of all someone he considered his rival. Keith scolded himself for being so presumptuous. 

And now Lance was ignoring Keith and was suddenly best friends with Shiro. He hung around the guy constantly, from sitting next to him at meals to training with him on his free time. If Keith didn’t know better he would feel left out; jealous, even. It was almost as though Lance was doing it on purpose, just to elicit those feelings.

But no, Keith was overthinking things again. Nothing was there. He took those secret feelings, wrapped them up carefully, and put them somewhere where they would only be accessible in his dreams. Then he zipped up his jacket to hide his neck, ruffled his hair to look as normal as possible, and decided that maybe he could go down the med bay after all.

\-------

Shiro would like to say he was a patient man. When he was at the Garrison, he had tutored several other cadets. They were young and headstrong and often goofing off, but as he always said, _patience yields focus_. Sometimes it was just a matter of waiting for them to calm down, or speaking to them in a calm, direct voice. In the end, his patience always won out.

Shiro had absolutely no patience left for Lance. The guy was impossible to wait out, and he could speak for several minutes straight without taking a legitimate breath. He was also impossibly energetic and had to keep moving constantly, even when they were sitting still. Shiro tried sparring with him at first, and soon discovered that he would tire faster than Lance, even if he was his superior in ability and knowledge.

Next he tried to shake him-- sending him on errands or giving him chores. He had his moment of silence before Lance showed up again, having finished the job. 

If he talked about the mission, it might not have been so bad. Maybe they could even talk about Voltron or Earth or Whatever-Kids-Like-To-Do-These-Days.

All Lance wanted to talk about was Keith. Shiro was sure Lance could not hear himself. The words he was using were things like ‘hate’ and ‘annoying’, but it was not hard to read between the lines. Lance complained about Keith stealing his glory, made fun of his hair, and complained about his habits (which he seemed to know a lot about). 

It was a day after the mission in the Horocron system, and Shiro had been stuck with Lance for half of that time. It was half a day too long. He finally rounded on him in the hallway of his own room.

“Lance, please,” Shiro finally begged, because if he didn’t, he was going to snap. “I don’t want to talk about Keith.”

Lance blinked in surprise. “Keith? Who cares about that guy?”

“You, apparently.” Shiro sighed at the inevitable string of denials that vomited out of Lance’s mouth. Another day and this situation might have been amusing, but Shiro was tired from the mission and wanted at least an hour alone in the sauna. “Listen, I don’t care. I know that sounds mean, but, I’m done now. Patience hasn’t yielded anything today.”

Lance stopped sputtering and looked down at his feet. A look of embarrassment spread over his face, and far from being angry, he looked crestfallen. “Sorry, Shiro. I’m being annoying, right?”

Shiro felt his heart soften, as it often did for his paladin children. “Lance, you are always annoying,” he said affectionately. “But I can tell something is bothering you.”  
Lance looked up shyly before dropping his gaze again. He scrunched up his lips and brow in thought, and an obvious red flush was starting to creep up his neck and to his ears. It was almost adorable, if Shiro wasn’t still fresh out of patience. 

“In the very least, you need to get that shoulder checked out.” Lance looked up sharply. Did he really think he was fooling anyone? “I have a feeling you would deny a pod, so at least see if there’s any anti-inflammatories. I need you in top form.” 

Lance finally sighed and Shiro got the impression he was returning from some deep, dark place with a fresh outlook on life. “You’re right, man. This shoulder hurts like a _bitch_.” He rolled it once which elicited a little groan. “I’m sorry, sweety, but I’m gunna have to cancel our date.”

“Thank god.”

“Rain check?” Lance clicked his teeth as if he was talking to a horse and winked. Shiro couldn’t help but smile as he watched the blue paladin saunter away. Yeah, he was cute. But damn was he _annoying_.


	7. Chapter 7

Huddled in the cool, empty med bay by himself, Lance was letting himself be taken by self-pity. When he looked in a little hand mirror he found in a random compartment, he was shocked to see how much worse than this morning the injury was. All he could see in the tiny glass was a deep, angry purple bruise radiating from his bony shoulder. 

He didn’t even know how those healing pods worked. He hadn’t been conscious the last time he got in one and getting out was a bit of a blur. What he could remember was the feelings of being helpless and weak. No wonder people didn’t like hospitals.

He had raided the medicine compartments before taking off his shirt. Everything was meticulously labelled in Altean with little pictures that showed smiling faces with lines radiating from different parts of their bodies. Thank god for these, because he could at least avoid stomach medicine, or brain medicine, or whatever that one was with little lightning bolts coming from the figure’s crotch. 

He settled on a jar of white cream that had a label with a disembodied leg that might have been injured, judging from dramatic lines around the calf. It smelled faintly spicy, though not of anything Lance recognized. When he touched it tentatively with his fingers, he found it was cool, like menthol.

 _Better than nothing_ , he thought miserably, trying not to remember how his abuela used to give him a cinnamon smelling gel that time when he had sprained his ankle crashing his bike. He had been 9 and he was so determined not to cry in front of anyone, but abuela had a way of turning him into a big baby. He missed her terribly.

At least this weird stuff seemed to be working. His skin tingled where he applied it, but not in an uncomfortable way. The pulsing pain that had only gotten worse throughout the day immediately started to ease, at least on the surface.

“Jesus, Lance!” He hadn’t heard the door of the medbay open. Stupid space doors. Lance jumped in surprise and twisted to look at the owner of the voice.

 _Of course_ , he thought, his mind racing in panic. It was too late to casually leave the room now, with his shirt tossed over a nearby chair and the counter beside his own chair covered in overlooked bottles of pharmaceuticals. 

Keith was approaching him, and Lance turned away as quickly as he could. He could feel a flush on the back of his neck and his ears. He searched desperately for something typical to say. “I think I look good in purple.” 

“It looks bad,” Keith was saying severely. “Is it dislocated?”

Lance waved a hand, still not looking back. “Nah, I used it all morning. Just a bruise. It looks waaaay worse than it is. Alas, no impressive scars!”

Keith was circling him, coming around to his front with eyes on his shoulder. Lance studied the jar of cream like it was extremely interesting. “I wonder what this stuff is, anyway.” He dipped two fingers in and scooped up enough to start applying in circles again. Each fresh application sent a new wave of refreshing relief rippling through his skin and muscles.

“You aren’t reaching the back,” Keith noted. He was watching Lance closely and Lance was keenly aware of it. He tried to think of his abuela again.

“Have you seen it from the back? It’s way worse back there.” Lance wasn’t surprised, from the pain, but he tried to wave Keith off.

“It’s fine, I just need a little something to keep me in fighting condition. Shiro was worried, so--”

“Give me that,” Keith snapped, giving Lance another start. He snatched the jar from his hands and began peeling off his gloves before stepped around him again. Lance felt himself tense, despite trying to convince himself that this was _fine_ and _normal_. He closed his eyes and imagined abuela’s old wrinkly fingers as they roughly smothered him in cream.

Keith’s hands weren’t rough and his fingers weren’t wrinkly. Lance flinched when the cold gel touched his shoulder blade, not because it was painful, but because he was wound tighter than an Altean watch. He told himself to _breathe, damnit_ but that was altogether too many things to try to focus on at once. Keith pushed the gel around in slow circles, spreading it thinner until Lance could feel the callouses on his palm. He shivered.

“You’re an idiot,” Keith said, but his tone was gentle. “Who falls so completely badly that he wrecks his shoulder?”

Lance scowled at the empty air in front of him. “I’m not the only one who got hurt, remember?” he said accusingly. “I’m not the idiot that charged in without doing a proper headcount.”

“Hey, at least I don’t look like a blueberry.”

Lance looked over his shoulder at Keith-- a gesture that made him wince. “Why’s your jacket zipped up, then, huh?” He imagined that Keith was looking self conscious, but it was hard to tell at this angle. “You gunna need some mystery gel too?” 

Keith grunted something into the collar of his jacket.

“I can help-- you know, eye-for-an-eye and all that,” Lance said, before he could stop himself. He turned away too quickly, but he had to-- his face was starting to burn as badly as his ears. What the hell was he saying? This Keith-as-a-Dressup-Doll thing was going too far. He was imagining unzipping that obnoxious red jacket and revealing one of those tight black t-shirt that he knew Keith always wore. He’d look better with his neck uncovered. He’d look better with a lot uncovered.

“Sorry,” Keith said quickly, because Lance hadn’t managed to stifle a embarrassed groan. “That’s probably enough anyway. I mean, you should probably get someone to look at it. Someone other than me. And maybe take some pain meds. But not before asking Coran or Allura because I don’t trust those pictures on the bottles.”

Lance looked at Keith again, because he was talking altogether too much. Keith chose that moment to turn away and busy himself with a few of the bottles. “Why are they all smiling in the pictures?”

“Creepy, right?” Lance said with a half-smile. He reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. Keith was back at his side to help him gently pull the rest of his over his arms and torso without getting the gel all over the place.

“I’m glad we’re friends again,” Keith said in a strangely genuine voice. Lance blinked in surprise. 

“When did we become friends?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Keith said with a scowl. “We were just getting along before you started to avoid me.”

Lance’s words died in his throat. Had he been so obvious? He struggled to think of a better excuse than _‘I didn’t want to look at you because it was making me think weird things.’_

“Ugh, I hate it when you do this.” Keith ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it awkwardly.

“What?” 

“Get all quiet. It isn’t like you and it makes me nervous.”

Lance couldn’t help but smile-- no, _smirk_. “Oh, you want me to talk more, do you?”

“Wait, I take that back,” Keith said with eyes widening. “Please, continue to shut up.”

“No, it’s too late. The Late Night Lance Show has just begun and it's one of those channels without commercial breaks. With special guests, Lance’s Heroic Injury and Lance’s Fantastic Sharpshooting Ability Which Totally Saved Keith’s Pretty Neck.”

Keith scowled and Lance mentally punched himself for the generous use of the word ‘Pretty’.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm on vacay, but please poke me if you want to read more. I live for your comments.

For all of the superficial benefits of the healing cream, it did not turn out to be a fix for Lance’s shoulder. It may have even made things worse, he reflected, as he lay on his bed and contemplated the ceiling the next morning. He had woken in a fog, as if he was trying to pull himself to the surface of the water without the use of his arms or legs. The pain did the rest of the work, making his eyes snap open and his heart start hammering in his chest. When he tried to sit up, his arm was next to useless and a heavy, tired sensation weighed at the rest of him.

He felt a whimper rise to throat, which he swallowed harshly. There was no way crying was going to help his situation. He had to get up and make his way to the medbay, making a pit stop at the communicator by the door to beg someone for help.

He couldn’t do this alone. He never could do anything alone. Sure, he was self-sufficient and independent when he needed to be, but he always functioned better with a friend or with family. 

Lying in bed, shoulder screaming in protest and forehead sweating with the effort of managing the pain, Lance thought about his family again. His mother, ever the feeder, would make sure he had his home-cooked meals in bed. His sister would bring him his homework, and maybe even course notes from his friends (which he would probably ignore, but it was the thought that counted). His younger siblings would periodically keep him company, telling him their inane stories and piling him with toys. His best friends would call him. His grandparents would drop off treats for him.

Alone on a spaceship flying billions of miles from Earth, Lance began to cry again.

“Lance?” 

By now Lance wasn’t surprised when he heard Keith’s voice. He was getting good at catching Lance during the most inopportune times. Or, maybe the best times. Lance couldn’t deny the deep feeling of relief from hearing someone’s voice on the other side of the door. He was even relieved to hear it was Keith.

“Lance, are you coming? We have a meeting.”

Lance took a steadying breath and swallowed what was left of his sobbing. He considered telling Keith to go without him. In fact, it normally would have been his default answer. But his heart was yearning for someone to cover him in sympathy. He wanted his mother’s cooking. He wanted a hug.

A week ago, he had felt his pride yanked out of him by Keith’s pitying look. But now, he wanted nothing more.

“Keith?” Lance started, his voice wavering between pathetic and confident. “I think I might need a little help.”

The door opened and Keith stood beyond, his eyebrows already knit with worry. “Not again.”

Lance tried to smile but it came out guiltily, because he felt a little bad for depending on Keith again. He felt like he was taking advantage of him, when Keith relied only on himself. Lance also felt a little guilty for the little jolt of pleasure he felt at even seeing his face.

“I feel like shit.”

“You _look_ like shit,” Keith was saying, but the bite was not his in tone. He paused a few feet from the bed and frowned. “Are you OK?”

“What do you think?” Lance asked dryly. 

“I mean, it's not just your shoulder, is it?” Keith’s frown spread to his brow, and he knelt beside the bed. Lance wanted to shift uncomfortably, but it hurt anytime he moved. “Lance, you can tell me what’s wrong.”

That was it-- that was all it took for the emotions to come swelling up again. Lance felt his breath catch and studder in his chest. His vision was swimming again and he fought to remain composed.

“I want to go home,” he said miserably. It took serious effort to say this without the tears springing from his eyes.

Keith laughed-- but it wasn’t scathing. “I know buddy,” he said gently. “I don’t blame you. You can cry, if you want.”

Lance made a face and rolled his eyes through the veil of tears. “I’m sure you’d love that.”

Keith was still smiling. “And have your pride biting at my heals forevermore? No thanks. I’d probably have to go on several terrible Horocronian dates before your ego was satisfied. Wearing terrible dresses.” 

Lance had to laugh. He would treasure the image of Keith in a dress forever. “I have never seen someone so awkward in a skirt.” They both laughed at this, and Lance felt his heart ease.

Keith leaned back on his ankles and let a serious look come back over his features. “I know it's not the same as your family back home,” he started. “But we’re your family too. Hunk’s cooking might not be the same, but sometimes I feel like he’s more a mother than I’ve ever had before. And I’m sure if you asked really nicely, Allura would let you do her hair.”

Lance grinned. “Can I do _your_ hair?”

Keith grimaced, and then looked down at his hands. “Sure,” he mumbled. There was a short silence that followed, in which Lance wasn’t sure what to say. He tried to focus on the pulsing pain that was radiating from his shoulder. It almost looked like Keith was blushing.

“ _Keith, did you find Lance?_ ” It was Shiro’s voice, coming over the comm system. Both paladin’s jumped, which elicited a groan from Lance. Keith got up and crossed the room to the communicator by the door.

“Lance is hurt,” Keith said when he pressed the button. “I think he needs a pod.”

“ _About time_ ,” Shiro’s voice answered. “ _Coran will meet him there_.”

Lance let Keith help him sit up. That was the hardest part. Once there, he slouched on the edge of the bed and steadied his breath. Then they stood and left the room together, Lance still in his shorts and shirt and Keith supporting him unnecessarily with a hand on the small of his back. Both Coran and Shiro were waiting for them at the med bay.

“By Enzo’s curly tail!” Coran exclaimed. “What did you do to yourself?”

Lance waved in an offhand way with his good hand. “Put more faith in my shoulder than the structural integrity of a Galra sentry. You should see him, though.”

“He fell on him,” Keith supplied. “Badly.”

“And I’m alive whereas the sentry is blown to smithereens. I think my actions were justified.”

Shiro sighed and Coran looked sceptical. Keith was rolling his eyes as he walked forward and rounded on Lance. “Next time, just use the damn pod,” he said in a tone that was not unlike Lance’s mother. “I’m sick of taking care of you.”

Lance felt a tug at the corners of his lips, despite it all. “Sorry, mom. I didn’t mean to make you worry.” He savoured the look of annoyed embarrassment on Keith’s face before Coran suited him up for the pod.

\--------------------

When Shiro found Allura on the bridge she was looking at a map of the Horocronian system. He wondered how much time she spent doing anything other than preparing for missions. She was an inspiration to him, who considered himself a single-minded strategist. But even he took time off to read a book, talk to his lion, or sit in the sauna. Allura always seemed to be at work.

“Have you seen Keith?” he asked, because in the end, it was the red paladin he had been looking for. 

Allura barely acknowledged Shiro before looking back at the map. “In the med bay.”

“Still?”

Allura did look up this time, with a faint smile on her lips. It made Shiro want to smile, too, and they exchanged a rare look that he would savour for some time.

“I doubt he’ll leave until Lance is better.”

Shiro heaved a breath as he so often did when he was dealing with his paladin juniors. “Geez. And here I was worrying for Lance. Keith’s no better.”

“What a couple of idiots,” said Allura, and Shiro was happy to see her relaxed.

Shiro leaned back on his command chair. “Do you think they’ll, you know…”

“I hope so. We could do with a little romance around here.” Shiro looked up sharply, but Allura was looking another way now and it was impossible to make eye contact. “Of course, they are both slower than a Findish Japlaxean. It will take ages for anything to happen.”

“Not much we can do about that,” said Shiro, and from the look on Allura’s face, he immediately regretted saying it.

“Not necessarily true.” She put a delicate finger on her chin while she thought. “There is the next mission.”

“That hardly seems fair,” said Shiro, feeling badly for Lance and Keith already.

“All’s fair in love and _Recktanuss Fluggs_.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sitting on the porch at my cottage, drinking a beer and snacking on chips. There's wind in the trees and the soft sound of water on the shore. 
> 
> And all I want to do is make my boys uncomfortable. I'm a horrible mother.

Keith stared down the Horocronian woman with a suspicious look that he did nothing to hide. He was a suspicious person by nature, but his recent encounter with this species had left him with a bad taste in his mouth. Right from the get-go he felt like they had been using the team for their own political maneuvering, as much as Allura labelled it as a fight for ‘freedom’. The Horocronians were hardly the victims that other aliens were and helping them felt a lot less heroic.

But, Shiro pointed out, they were powerful allies. The ships they helped build were some of the most powerful in the universe, in terms of physical durability and strength. The Galra left them to their own devices in return of the manufacturing of advances ship parts-- it was not something that could be forced out of slave labour. On the side of Voltron, the Horocronians could provide the growing rebellion with the ships needed to fight the Galra in the battles to come.

It was their attitude that bothered Keith the most. They put themselves above most other species, claiming to be the most civilized. They barely looked at the humans but to sniff at their apparently barbaric habits. According to the Horocronians, there was only one species that knew how to live a transcendent life.

 _What’s so great about being gay, anyway?_ Keith thought as he narrowed his gaze at the woman. _It never did me any good._

Della was possibly even more pretentious than the others they had met, being a part of an all-important secret rebellion. She barely looked at any of the paladins when she met with them and stooped only to speak with Allura, and on occasion, Pidge.

“Your modifications to the transport ship are excellent,” she said to Pidge with a face that did not betray any real emotions. Pidge, who had been explaining her part of the mission to everyone on the bridge, coloured noticeably and looked to Shiro for support. 

Shiro stepped forward before Pidge was forced to respond. “The ship will be heading to the city of Khallrash, where there is a high council. The prisoners are to be questioned in front of the council and the public, and then taken to a holding cell. That is where they will break out and escape back to the castle, with the help of Della and her team.”

“So, we have to pretend to be on trial?” Hunk asked nervously. “Like, go to jail? Why does this sound like a terrible idea?”

“It’s just for show, Hunk,” Allura explained. “This way the Horocronians will be seen as adversaries of Voltron and remain allies of the Galra-- so far as they know.”

This didn’t seem to make Hunk any less nervous. 

“We’ve selected Lance and Keith to be the prisoners,” Allura went on in a business-like voice. “Pidge and Hunk will wait at the rondeview point with the lions. Shiro is going to go undercover with Della and ensure that the prisoners escape.”

“I will be waiting for you in the city,” Shiro said, looking from Keith to Lance. “From there we will take a ship to a nearby outpost, and then to the 2nd moon where Pidge and Hunk are waiting.”

“And then we’re gone!” added Coran. “The Galra will be busy trying to rebuild their port, and the Horocronians will start secretly shipping to the rebellion.”

There seemed to be a lot of chances for things to go wrong on this mission. It seemed reckless and dangerous. Normally, Keith would not balk at this-- flinging himself in head first was how he liked to do things. But he looked over at Lance, who was standing too still and being too quiet, and he hesitated.

“Are we sure this is necessary?” he voiced, eyes going from Della to Shiro. “We could just leave now.”

“We have made an agreement,” said Allura, looking strict. “We will not back down once a deal has been made. Keith, if you do not want to go on this mission, you may switch with Shiro.”

Keith looked from Shiro to Lance, and decided that wasn’t something he wanted at all. “It’s fine,” he said, unable to keep himself from sounding bitter. When he looked again at Lance, he saw that he was trying to give him a little smile, and Keith couldn’t help but return it. 

The ship was not unlike the drop ship they had used to go to Horocron days before. It had been fitted with turrets and marked in a way that apparently denoted it an official high council vehicle. There was room in the cockpit for two pilots and the rest a secure holding area for prisoners.

Lance and Keith suited up, leaving their helmets with Della in the cockpit. Then she fitted them with binds on their wrists. They were tight and magnetically charged, so that Keith’s wrists flew together with a _clang_ and did not separate again. He heard Lance emit a little yelp.

“Is this really necessary?” Lance asked with a note of panic in his voice.

“Should we be seen before landing in Khallrash, we need to make the illusion complete,” Della said without mercy. “You will only be bound so for 2 vargas. Surely patience is a known on your planet, even if you do not practice it. Now is the time you should do so.”

Lance was frowning, no doubt used to other people questioning his patience. Keith could feel himself getting frustration on his behalf and glared openly at the Horocronian as she made her way to the cockpit. “This is ridiculous,” Keith muttered to Lance when she was out of earshot.

“It’s still not too late to switch,” he said in a tone that was altogether too calm. Then Lance looked down at his bonds with an odd expression. “If you don’t want to be stuck here with me.”

Keith had no response to that, and allowed himself to be led into the drop ship hold where their bonds were attached to a strip of magnet against the wall. He was still trying to frame a reply when Shiro got their attention.

“I will meet you after the council hearing, before they get you to the holding cell. Good luck, guys.” His voice was soft, and it made Keith all the more frustrated. 

“Shiro,” he said in a low and urgent tone. “I have a bad feeling about this. I don’t trust these people.”

Shiro looked over his shoulder and then back to the two paladins in the drop ship. “But Allura does, and I trust Allura. Don’t worry-- I’ll be waiting for you on the other end.” 

Normally a pep talk from Shiro would have calmed Keith down, but the smile he gave was forced. “Alright.” Shiro returned the grin, unaware of Keith's thoughts, and stepped back to secure the hold door. Lance and Keith were left in semi darkness, illuminated only by the florescent lights along the floor and on their bonds.

“Keith,” Lance said from his side. Keith hadn’t realized how close they were. Lance’s face glowed purple from the light of the bonds, and it was serious. “I’ve got your back, OK?”

He couldn’t believe how much better those words made him feel than Shiro’s pep talk. Keith felt his expression soften and his heart lighten. “And I’ve got yours.” 

They stumbled slightly as the craft began to move, held only in place by their bonds. Lance grimaced. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine. Better. No, honestly.” Keith must have been looking skeptical. “It just feels stiff. This isn’t the best angle.”

“I could prop you up, maybe,” Keith offered without thinking. “You could sit on my leg, or--”

“No! No, I’m fine!” Lance voice came out like a squeak. In the light, he may have been blushing, but it was impossible to tell. He looked up, suddenly interested in something on the ceiling.

“2 hours, huh?”

“ _Vargas_ ,” Keith corrected. “I think they are longer than an hour.” Lance was looking pained again, so he went on. “I don’t think you’re annoying.” He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but the words always spilled out before he had a chance to prune them. 

It was apparently the right thing to say, because Lance grinned. The drop ship shuttered, telling them that they were launching. “That’s a first.”

“At least not right _now_ ,” Keith amended, feeling himself colouring. Why was it that any time Lance looked serious he felt the need to blurt out whatever was on his mind? Lately Lance had been serious far too often and Keith could feel himself being swayed by those earnest looks. He just wanted Lance to laugh again. 

“Oh, just wait until an hour from now. I am a professional endurance talker, you know. You’ll probably be able to write my biography by the time we’re done here.”

“I already know more than I want to,” Keith retorted, feeling a little more relaxed with the familiar banter.

“You mean you don’t want to hear my embarrassing childhood stories? Or a categorized list of every meal I’ve eaten in 17 years?”

Keith groaned, but it was forced. He sort of wanted to hear the stories.

“Hey, have you heard the story of when I crashed my bike? It’s a good one: You’ve never seen an 8 year old fly so far. It was majestic.”

Keith was smiling, and he was aware of it. “I know what you’re doing, Lance.”

“What? Glorifying my childhood?”

“You’re trying to take my mind off the mission.” The drop ship had no windows in the hold, but from the way their legs felt weighed down more than usual, the artificial gravity had been switched on. They had left the castle.

Lance shrugged as best he could while his hands were bound. “If I’m good at anything, it’s talking. We can’t all be combat geniuses like you.”

“Don’t undersell yourself, Lance.” For all of his ego and rivalry, Lance had a streak of humility that Keith felt the need to dispute. In truth, all the paladins had their tactical advantages, and Lance was improving faster than the rest. It was likely their rivalry that pushed him to improve, and Keith had always been impressed with his determination. “I’m glad I have you with me on this mission.”

Lance looked away again. Keith wondered if he disagreed-- why else would such a comment seem to make him uncomfortable? They did make a good team, didn’t they?

“I’m glad you didn’t switch with Shiro,” was the answer he finally got. Lance was doing that serious thing again, and Keith felt it pull on his heart. He was suddenly aware of his heartbeat in his ears and the rhythm of his breath. He couldn’t think of something to say to fill the empty space. The hum of the engine was regular and did nothing to interrupt the silence.

His mind was wandering back to that night on Horocron. There had been a flash of feelings that Keith had made an effort to forget, but it floated back to the front of his mind now. For a fleeting moment, he thought that Lance and Shiro had some kind of connection that went beyond what the others had. It was stupid, really-- Shiro treated them all equal. Even to Keith he had settled into an older brother position. 

But he had _kissed_ Lance. On the mouth.

Keith reminded himself, as he had several times, that it had just been an act. Apparently the Horocronians hadn’t been convinced at the gala, and they needed physical proof that Lance and Shiro were partners. 

And yet… Allura hadn’t felt the need to interject with Keith. And the next day Lance followed Shiro like a lost puppy.

Keith was frowning, but didn’t realize until he saw Lance duck down to look him in the face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Keith lied. He tried to focus on what Lance had said, letting it clear away any doubts that lingered in his mind. _Lance wants me to be here more than Shiro_ , he reiterated mentally. _We’re a good team. We’re family. He wants me here._ The thought was warming his insides more than he would ever admit.

Just then they felt a jolt a movement and the drop ship shuttered. 

“What was that?” asked Lance, looking around with alarm.

“Tractor beam,” Keith said immediately, swallowing his own alarm. “Something isn’t right.”

A voice came over the communicators. It was Della. “ _It’s the Galra. Don’t do anything. Don’t say anything. We are being boarded._ ”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry.

Trust the Galra to interrupt a tender moment.

Lance should have been panicking. He should have been mentally preparing for battle or making plans with Keith or taking inventory. He should not feel annoyed or cock-blocked, but there it was.

OK, so Lance wasn’t really expecting this to go anywhere. He was just starting to get a handle on this whole _finding Keith attractive_ thing and he was quite happy with this level of relationship. A little light flirting, a little bromance, and maybe even a fight or two: that was all he really expected. Being trapped alone in a drop ship with Keith wasn’t bad either-- he was looking forward to a solid two hours of bonding.

But the Galra had a way of fucking everything up, even Lance’s half-baked plan of putting himself in the friendzone. 

Keith had been right, after all. This plan had so many chances for something to go wrong. For all of Della’s confidence, she didn’t seem to hold their lives as sacred as her own and Lance wasn’t really expecting her to go out of her way to protect them. For the sake of appearances, he wouldn’t be surprised if she just handed them over to the Galra.

“We will be taking these prisoners,” the Galra officer said almost as soon as the doors opened and they saw Lance and Keith inside. Lance hated when his pessimism was justified.

“Of course,” Della said without hesitation. “We expect them to go on trial at the high council today. I assume they will be brought there after interrogation.”

“That will be for our lieutenant to decide,” the Galra said gruffly. He didn’t look like he respected the Horocronian anymore than she respected him. He was being flanked by two other officers and several sentries. The space beyond looked like a small hangar, housing two or three sentry ships. 

“What should I tell my superiors?” Della insisted.

“That the Galra will deal with the prisoners, and not to question the empire.” If Della was unsatisfied by that answer, she made no hint of it on her face. Four sentries came forward to flank Lance and Keith while the Galra officers removed the bonds from the wall of the hold. Lance stood up in a stoop, his hands still bound together. 

_What now?_ he wanted to ask Keith. _Time for you to be a leader, buddy. Think of some brilliant plan to get us out of here. Better yet, go in guns blazing with no plan at all._ If Keith suddenly developed the ability to read minds, he made no indication of it. He only paused to glare hatefully at Della. 

“These uniforms--” one of the officers began as he followed behind the paladins. “Are these…?”

“That is for Lt. Loodan to decide,” the leader said sharply. He did not spare Della a second look before brushing past and through the hangar. He was flanked by two sentries and the rest followed behind. Keith and Lance were outnumbered and bound, caught somewhere in the space between the castle and Horocron without their lions. Lance tried to imagine the odds were not so terrible.

 _At least I have Keith_ , Lance thought, and then promptly felt embarrassed for thinking it so heartily. _Because he’s a good fighter. And he said he had my back. And he’s my family._ Lance listened to Keith’s rhythmic steps, and willed himself to be calmed by them. _I’m not alone, because I have Keith. Everything’s going to be OK._

They didn’t speak as they walked through the Galra ship. Keith was probably already thinking of a plan as his eyes darted at every passageway, at every sentry, and at every potential weapon. They could summon their bayards easily, but now did not seem the time to suddenly begin attacking. Not when they were so outnumbered. Lance wasn’t even sure he could pull the trigger with his hands bound together. So instead he tried to make himself useful: looking for exits, remembering how many turns to the hangar and counting each sentry on duty.

It wasn’t a large Galra ship: they arrived at the bridge within minutes. The consoles were manned by 2 other Galra officers, and a lieutenant turned to face them when they entered. He was large of face but short in stature, with a permanent scowl on his purple features.

“Really?” he asked with a raised brow. “These scrawny things are pilots of Voltron?”

“Hey now!” Lance couldn’t help himself. “Who are you calling scrawny?”

“Lance, shut up,” Keith hissed, and Lance had to obey. This certainly wasn’t the time. 

“Offaar, take them to the brig. The rest of you go make sure that Horocronian doesn’t hang around.” Apparently the lieutenant really thought Lance and Keith were scrawny, because a moment later they were being escorted by a much smaller detail down another passageway. Still, Keith made no move against their captor and Lance followed his lead.

They descended a flight of stairs and passed an open area that was given over to what looked like an engine, or a generator. Several engineers turned their heads to watch them pass, but made no move to question or comment. Beyond the passage narrowed and they were forced to pass one at a time: the Galra officer in front and the two sentries at the back. 

It was at this moment that Keith acted. He made a motion on the side of his leg and his bayard materialized as a long sword in his hand. He made a wide arc upwards, slicing the back of the Galra and causing him to fall forward with a small cry of alarm. Then in a smooth movement, he twisted towards Lance and sliced downwards, straight through the middle of the two bonds. The rings fell apart, the purple lights fading as they clattered to the floor. 

Lance had to act quickly, activating his shield and turning to the oncoming fire from the sentries. Keith activated his own shield and Lance did something between a back roll and a stumble to fall in behind its protection. When he had steadied himself a moment later, he raised the sight on his rifle and fired three shots. The sentries both fell backwards with a satisfying sound on the metal floor.

“Hah!” Lance cried triumphantly. 

“Like shooting fish in a barrel,” Keith said accusingly, but when he looked back, he was smiling. “Come on.”

They lept over the fallen bodies and down the hallway, back to the engine room. A sudden sound made them both duck down to the floor, as someone inside opened fire on them. Without another moment of hesitation Keith was in the room, rushing at the first Galra attacker.

How many times had Lance watched Keith rush into battle and felt his heart in his throat? That boy was going to be the death of him. He dropped to one knee behind a nearby console and aimed his rifle at a sentry. He shot it before it was able to fire its own weapon at the furious red paladin. More laser projectiles told Lance that backup was arriving, and he aimed his reticle at the entrance beyond. 

_Like fish in a barrel_ , he silently agreed as he fired several consecutive shots, downing three sentries before they got wise and closed the door. He looked up, twisting his head around to spot any other vantage points. There were two other doors on a second level catwalk to his left, opposite of the generator. They were closed for now, so he looked back to Keith, who was making short work of the Galra left in the room.

“This way!” Lance called to Keith, who was spinning around to see who might come at him next. When he didn’t find anyone, he sprinted back to Lance and together they made their way up a thin ladder to the catwalk. Just as they reached the platform, the first door opened. Lance was too slow and missed the shot, but Keith practically climbed over him to attack the sentry with sword in hand. He barreled into the first, knocking it over and rolling to land on the walk beyond. The second door opened with a bang, and suddenly Keith was surrounded. This time Lance managed to land a shot and he was scrambling to his feet before the sentry had even hit the floor. He grabbed at the door one handed and heaved it close before anything else could come through. Unlike the doors on the castle, it closed with a satisfying _slam_. 

Keith was doing the same with the other door. “We need to get back to the hangar,” Keith said with urgency in between heavy breaths. “If we’re lucky, Della left our helmets there and we can call the team for help.”

“There’s three doors,” Lance said, looking at the one at the floor level and then back to the two they had just slammed shut. “We have to choose one.” Just at that moment the door behind him started to open and he threw his body against it. The dull pain in his shoulder protested and he ignored it.

“Let’s jump,” Keith said and he didn’t wait for Lance to agree before he was over the railing of the catwalk and landing on the floor below. Lance was as graceless as usual, and had to break his fall with a messy roll. “Careful,” Keith barked at him. He stepped back to Lance and practically carried him to his feet. “You can’t get hurt again.”

Lance wanted to smirk and say something clever, but something was firing at them again. They both took off at a dash to the far door. Keith wrenched it open and they were both relieved to see there was nothing beyond. “Follow me.”

Keith must have been paying attention to where they were going better than Lance, because he turned down several hallways with confidence. Once they ran into a group of sentries, but having caught them off guard, Keith was on them before they could attack.

“We’re almost there. I’m pretty sure this is the way.” It was strange to hear Keith unsure, but Lance had to trust that he knew where he was going. Otherwise they were done for. 

“There!” said Keith finally, pointing down a long hallway to a door that was as unremarkable as the rest. “That looks like the other door leading into the hangar.” They ran forward the last few strides when Lance was alerted to a sound coming from their right.

“Keith, get down!” Too late, they realized the door at the end of the hallway was actually at a T-intersection. Keith turned like a deer in the headlights as bolts of lasers flew past him. He raised his shield, but he was too slow.

Lance watched in horror as a bolt slammed into the soft black space on Keith’s lower torso. His body fell back, crashing into the ground behind him. Lance was rushing forward the instant later, turning as he approached the junction and firing continuously at the oncoming forces. They went down one after another, until nothing filled the hallway but a faint haze of smoke.

Lance turned back to Keith, where he lay motionless on the floor of the Galra ship. “Keith?” he asked in a strained voice. He dropped down by his side and shook him by the shoulders. “Keith, come on!” 

Dread filled Lance’s mind and threatened to swallow him whole. Keith’s eyes were closed, his face pale. It was impossible to tell if he was breathing or bleeding, and the sounds of running feet told Lance that more Galra were coming. He grabbed Keith around the waist and hefted him onto his shoulder. His body was heavy with dead weight and it took all of Lance’s strength to get back on his feet. Then he made for the door, praying that it was the hangar.

It was not. Lance shut the door behind him and looked around the long, dark room. It appeared to be a storage room and a single light in the middle cast shadows beyond rows of shelving units. The sounds beyond the door were coming closer, and Lance staggered to a far corner of the room before placing Keith carefully on the ground. Then he crouched and waited, willing their pursuers to pass by.

He counted to 20, his eyes on the door. _Keith’s OK_ , he told himself. He got to 30 and then looked back down at Keith’s immobile face. Had his eyelids flickered, or was that just a trick of the light? By the time he got to 60, the sounds beyond the door were sounding more distant, but still, Keith did not wake up.


	11. Chapter 11

Lance’s hands were shaking as he fumbled with the clasp on the side of Keith’s white paladin armor. He had taken off his gloves to give himself better dexterity, but he still felt clumsy. He told himself not to rush, and that it would be worse if he wasn’t gentle. It was hard to ignore the surge of adrenaline telling him to move as quickly as possible.

Keith was breathing. Lance could have cried when he felt the shallow breath tickle his cheek when he bent close to his mouth. Keith was alive and breathing and the relief was amazing. Lance then let a new kind of anxiety grip at him: Keith still wasn’t waking up and that meant he wasn’t out of danger yet.

The paladin armor was strong enough to protect them from most handheld weapon blasts. Obviously the white plates were the most sturdy, but even the thick black connecting fabric had its own protective qualities. The spot on Keith’s torso where he was shot was still intact.

When he finally managed to undo the armor and carefully remove the front piece, he saw Keith was wearing his tight black shirt as usual. A little sliver of belly peeked out from the bottom, and it was an angry red. Lance held his breath when he lifted it and let it out in a sharp way when he saw the huge red mark there. It looked like he had been punched in the stomach.

 _Why isn’t he waking up?_ Lance thought in confusion. Had Keith been hit so hard that it knocked him out? Was he somehow damaged on the inside? He put a tentative palm on Keith’s hard stomach, as if he could feel what was happening inside. His skin seemed warmer than it should have been, as if the red area burned with fire.

Keith groaned, making Lance start. He looked quickly at the unconscious face, which was contorting in discomfort, but not waking. _His head_ , Lance thought suddenly, and he slid a hand slowly and carefully under Keith’s head. Sure enough, he found an egg-sized lump on the back, where he had fallen. 

_A concussion?_ he thought, feeling his anxiety lessen again. He had seen concussions before. His sister got one from a hard tackle during a rugby game. When she had woken up, she had been delirious and confused, but the doctors said she would recover completely.

 _There are no doctors here_ , Lance thought nervously. _I need to get him out of here._

Keith’s eyes were fluttering, like he was struggling to wake up. Heart beating fast, Lance leaned close to him. “Keith, buddy,” he said in a voice that filled the silence of the storage room. “Wake up. We need to get out of here.”

“Where...?” Keith mumbled, and finally his eyes opened. They were half-lidded and he blinked often. Once he looked around to Lance but he didn’t settle on him for long. He was taking in the room like a blind person. “I need to find Shiro.”

Lance felt himself teetering between joy and worry-- Keith was awake, but he didn’t know where he was. His hand was groping through the air, like he was reaching for something that wasn’t there.

“Shiro’s waiting for us,” Lance said quietly, trying to sound calming. He caught the hand in the air and held in tight in his own. “Just relax, sweetie.”

“Who are you?” Keith slurred, and each time he closed his eyes they took longer to open again. Lance could not see his pupils in the darkness, but he imagined they were not focusing properly, like his sister’s hadn’t all those years ago.

“It’s Lance,” he supplied, trying not to feel hurt that he had been forgotten. “I’ve got you, Keith.” He gave the hand another squeeze.

“I have to talk to Shiro,” Keith insisted, and he tried to lift his torso. He winced, and fell back down.

“Woah, buddy. I think you should stay here. I’ll get Shiro.”

Keith’s face looked miserable all of a sudden, and Lance wondered if he was going to cry. “I’m tired,” he said finally, his free hand going to his eyes. 

Something in his memory told Lance that he wasn’t supposed to let a concussed person sleep. “Just keep talking, Keith. What do you need to tell Shiro?”

Keith let his hand fall to his side and looked around again wonderingly. “Where is this?” he asked. “Where’s dad?”

Lance felt his stomach swell up and his heart squeeze. Keith was coming apart at the seams, and he was revealing things deep inside that he never would have wanted Lance to see. Pity, Lance knew, would be the last thing that Keith wanted, but it was so hard not to feel. He reached his other hand out to push the dark bangs out of those confused eyes. 

“I have to tell Shiro,” Keith was saying again. “I have to come out to him.” He heaved a breath and closed his eyes again. 

Lance’s mouth was open and his hand frozen on Keith’s forehead. “Come out?” But Keith’s breaths were starting to even out and it was clear that despite Lance’s efforts, he had fallen asleep. “Keith? Keith, come on.” Lance shook one shoulder, as lightly as he could, but Keith was gone. “Shit.”

He dropped the hand and stood up, knowing what he had to do. He didn’t want to leave Keith like this, but they had to get out of here. It was only a matter of time before the Garla found them again, or Keith’s condition got worse. He took a moment to carefully reattach Keith's armor and put on his own gloves before heading resolutely to the door.

Lance paused to listen for a moment before tentatively pushing open the door. No one was without, and he noted that the fallen sentries had been hauled away too. He edged out and into the hallway before choosing a direction. _Remember where you left him,_ he told himself. _Keith is all that matters._

It was slow going. At any sound Lance was backtracking or ducking into a random room. He considered taking the ventilation system like they had at the shipping yard, but he thought it would slow him down and make him even more lost. He kept meticulous track of where he was going, to the point of keeping a map on the lines of his palm.

When he found the hangar, he was not surprised to see that the entrance was well guarded. The Galra were waiting for the paladins to try to escape, and were armed to the teeth to catch them. Lance waited down an adjacent hallway, willing a plan to come to him. Had the Galra found the helmets already? Had Della even left the helmets at all? 

Lance was feeling the pressure weigh down on him like a ton of bricks. He sank to the floor, his head in his hands. He was not cut out for this kind of thing. He needed someone like Shiro or Keith to tell him what to do. 

_There’s another entrance to the hangar_ , he reminded himself. _Keith was trying to find it_. He thought hard, trying to remember the layout of the room they had left an hour earlier. There may have been a door opposite of where they got off the drop ship. He tried to mentally map out the hallways, and decided, finally, on a direction.

Just as he stood there was an earsplitting crash and a sudden sucking sensation. The air was howling down the hallway and several voices yelled out in alarm over the din. Lance was forced to grab onto an exposed piece of piping on the wall as he felt his body being drawn toward the hangar doors. He whipped his head around to look: the sentries posted at the door had been sucked out and there was a gaping hole in wall of the hangar, showing space beyond.

Just as suddenly as it happened, Lance fell himself fall to the floor as a heavy blast door slammed shut between him and the hangar. An alarm sounded throughout the hallway and an automated voice announced that the hull had been breached.

Lance dashed to the little window in the blast door to look at the damage to the hangar. His heart leapt with joy to see the scene beyond: a huge red robot lion was perched on the edge of the broken floor. It looked at him, its eyes glowing with otherworldly intelligence. When it moved forward, Lance thought it had tiny white marbles in between two teeth-- the helmets.

“Alright, Red!” he whooped, throwing a fist in the air. A rumbling sound breached the blast door, telling him that Red was purring expectantly. Lance gave the lion a thumbs up through the little window and turned to run back the way he had come.

When he got back to the storage room, Keith’s eyes were open again. He was struggling to prop himself up on two elbows and blinking wildly. “Lance?” he asked.

“It’s alright, sweetie,” Lance said in his calming way. “I’m going to get you out of here, OK?”

“Sweetie?” Keith asked, and suddenly Lance realized he was much more lucid than he had been before. He swallowed him embarrassment and put an arm around Keith to lift him to his feet.

“Red came to rescue you,” Lance supplied as they made their slow way to the door. “He’s in love with you, that one.” _And I don’t blame him_ , he thought as they walked awkwardly through the door and down the yet empty hallway.

Keith made no noise but to grunt occasionally. He was putting a lot of his weight on Lance’s shoulder and each step was careful, as if he had never walked before. 

They encountered only one group of sentries. Lance managed to surprise them, and in a display of one-handed shooting that he knew he could brag about later, he managed to subdue them before they had a chance to fire at the two paladins. There was another at the blast door when they got to the hangar, and Lance dealt with him almost as an afterthought before lowering Keith to a sit.

The next part was tricky: They would have to use their jetpacks to fight the vacuum inside the hangar and get to the safety of Red before they froze to death. After some thought and eyeballing of the distance between the blast door and Red’s open mouth, Lance decided the best course of action would be to carry Keith and hope his own pack was strong enough for them both.

Keith’s eyes were glazing over again, and Lance leaned down to rouse him. “We have to move, Keith,” he said, making those eyes snap open again. “I’m going to jet us over to Red. Just hold onto me, OK?”

Obediently, Keith reached his arms up like a child wanting to be lifted by his parent. Lance let the gesture fill him with a warm sense of optimism and he gathered Keith up into a stand. Then, holding Keith with one hand and pressing the blast door controls with the other, he took a deep breath.

They were both jerked forward with an alarming force, and Lance barely was able to react quickly enough. He roared his jetpack to full, fighting against the rush of air. Keith was clinging to him hard and they both felt the slap of cold nothingness against their skin. Suddenly the force was too much and Lance felt them tumble out of control towards the hole in the hangar. He struggled to control the jetpack, but he was disoriented and lost in the lack of gravity.

There was a mechanical grind and a low purring sound and Red’s jaws were closing around them. The lights from the hangar were blocked from view and they fell into darkness before feeling the rush of gravity drop them to the loading ramp in the lion’s mouth. A moment later and a few lights blinked on, illuminating where the two pilots laid still clutched desperately together.

“Keith, you still with me, buddy?” Lance asked, his voice betraying his worry more than he intended. 

Keith groaned and pulled his face away from Lance’s chestplate. His eyes were unfocused but he was clearly scowling. “I wanna go home,” he muttered, before dropping his head and falling asleep once more.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter now because I may not be able to squeeze another one in for a few days~
> 
> I needed some Hunk in my life, so here he is.

In his dream, Keith was in the middle of the desert. He was alone, under the stars, wondering what it was like to be up _there_. Someone was waiting for him up there, in the vast unexplored darkness. But he was stuck, weighed down by Earth’s gravity and his own immobility. _Wait for me_ , he said to no one at all.

The medbay floated in view beyond a haze of glass and fluid. Keith was the kind of person who didn’t like opening his eyes under water. It felt weird to be submerged. It felt cold. But here in this strange, foggy fluid, he was warm and calm.

Lance was lying on the ground beyond, staring at the ceiling in a starfish position. From the way his mouth was moving he was talking to no one in particular, as the room was otherwise empty. Keith wanted to watch him for a while, but something must have alerted Lance of his sentience. The tall paladin lept up and was across the room in a heartbeat, his face alighted in a stupid smile. He pressed something on the side of the tank that Keith was in and the fluid began to funnel out of the pod.

Keith stumbled a little when the door opened, his legs not used to holding his own weight. Lance was there to catch him and he held him in a firm hug. They stood for a moment, Keith leaning into the embrace and letting his mind think about nothing at all. He was afraid that if he did, he would overthink the situation and start to panic. Lance was burying his face in side of Keith’s neck and pinning Keith’s arms to his side. 

When they finally disentangled, Lance had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Welcome back, mullet!” 

The door to the medbay opened quietly and the others came in loudly. “Oh thank god!” Hunk said at once, looking genuinely relieved.

“I told you he was fine,” Pidge said in an offhand way, but she was smiling broadly. 

“Keith, Lance, you two are _banned_ from any further injuries,” said Allura with all authority.

“No, really, we’re running out of falogatic fluid and making it is _not_ easy,” Coran added. “That goes for all of you. Next time you get hurt, you’ll have to heal the old fashioned way: by attaching drygopplers to your skin and dancing naked under the Altean full moon!”

“Sounds invigorating,” Lance said with a grin.

“Don’t listen to him,” Allura said with a roll of her eyes. “You don’t _have_ to be naked.”

“Kids these days!” Coran harrumphed. “They don’t even understand the proper way of applying drygopplers. Nevermind, we’re happy the pod worked for you, Keith. How’s the head?”

Keith felt the back of his head. He had the vague memory of falling backwards and the sensation of pain exploding at the back of his skull. There was no longer a lump there, but his hair was a messy mixture of fluid and knots. He needed a shower.

“How did we get back here? I don’t remember much.” He remembered the sensation of leaning on Lance and flashes of light. The pain he could remember, and the warmth of another body. He looked at Lance, knowing he should be thanking him. How many people would go out of their way to save your life? How many people would wait by your healing pod for you to get better? Keith felt his cheeks grow warm. _He really is my family_ , he thought with a happy twist in his stomach. 

“It was mostly Red,” Lance said with surprising humility. “He must have known you were hurt. Of course Blue came too, late as usual.” He frowned.

“What about Della? She just left us there,” Keith felt a familiar sensation of frustration rising in his chest. 

Allura spoke up, and Keith noticed Shiro wasn’t there to answer the question. No doubt he was still returning from the failed mission. “She did what she needed to do to maintain the alliance with the Galra. It wasn’t what was planned, but it had the same outcome. The Galra are unaware of our alliance.”

“That’s bullshit,” said Lance, and they all looked at him, surprised. He rarely disagreed with Allura, especially not while agreeing with Keith. “Keith could have died on that ship! She abandoned us without a second glance!”

Allura’s brows wrinkled in a frown. “If she was smart, then she could see that you two are talented, able pilots. She trusted that you would watch each other’s backs and make it out alive.” Lance looked at Keith, and Keith felt another surge of warmth. “Besides, she immediately told us what happened and we began to plan a rescue.”

“Of course, the second we got our shit together _BOOM_ \-- off goes Red on another space adventure.” Pidge made a motion with her hand to mimic a flying lion. 

Lance was still frowning, but Keith spoke up before he could continue to dissent.

“We get it,” he said with a sigh. He was tired from healing and wanted to get back to his room. “And she was right. Lance did have my back. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have made it.”

The shocked silence was even more profound this time, and Keith found himself unable to continue without hesitation. “I- I’m going to bed now.” He stepped forward awkwardly, feeling a deep soreness in his joints that would only be healed by a good sleep. 

“That sounds like a good idea for all of us,” said Allura. “We have a meeting with the Horocronians tomorrow before we leave.” 

The others started to file out of the room, Hunk putting a big hand on Keith’s shoulder before going, Pidge giving him (and Lance?) a wink and a thumb’s up, and Coran making a gesture that ‘he’s got his eye on’ Keith, as if he was about to use up the rest of the falogatic fluid. It was only when everyone else was gone that Lance seemed to realize that he was alone with Keith.

“Ah, yeah, see you tomorrow then.” 

“Lance, wait.” Keith gathered himself up to speak, but it was harder than he thought it was going to be. Lance looked like he was holding his breath. “I just want to say ‘thank you’,” Keith admitted lamely. He wished he had something better to say, but this seemed to work just fine for Lance. 

“Anytime, buddy. Really.” His eyes went soft and he smiled in the most earnest way possible. He was being serious again and Keith just wanted to wipe that whole look off of his face. Why? Because it made him feel anxious? Because he never knew what to say? Because it made him say too much? Because it made him want to take that stupid, serious face and squish it in between his hands and kiss it? 

Instead, he poked Lance, hard, in the stomach. 

“Hey! What was that for?”

“You’re being too serious,” Keith grunted, and he started off towards the door, because he was blushing harder than ever.

\-------------------

“Oh my god, if you don’t tell me what is wrong I will never feed you again!” 

It was late at night, if there was such a thing on a spaceship suspended in nothingness, enjoying the empty entertainment room. Hunk was sitting on one of the curved Altean couches, one arm draped over the back and the other swinging wildly in the air. He was overreacting, of course, but it was for this that Lance had come to him in the first place. He needed someone to vent to-- someone who would put his own thoughts in perspective. Someone who could commiserate.

But it was hard to imagine Hunk commiserating with Lance about having a crush on a teammate.

Lance buried his face further into the strangely-smelling round pillow that seemed to work better as a paperweight than for any real comfort. He thought he may never feel comfortable again-- not so long as he was trapped on this godforsaken ship with the object of his unrequited feelings. His episode on the Galra prison transport had done nothing to alleviate his problems, and instead of satisfying his thirst for old-fashioned bonding, it only made him more greedy. He had called Keith ‘sweetie’ and actually _hugged_ him when he had emerged from his healing pod. He was groaning again, and Hunk was getting progressively more agitated.

“Listen, should I go get Pidge? Because she has forms of interrogation that she has been dying to test out on someone.”

Lance looked over to Hunk and made a face that he knew was more pathetic than it needed to be. But Hunk understood him and instantly turned into the big, huggable guy that he was.

“Oh, buddy!” he said, gathering Lance into a bear-like embrace. “Tell Hunk what’s wrong.”

Lance sniffed (because he wasn’t crying! Not really!) and pulled back. “Hunk, remember when we were at the Garrison?”

“Who could forget?”

“Well, remember in second year, when we had that transfer student?”

Hunk put a finger on his chin, thinking. “Yeah-- what was his name? Leo?”

“Theo,” Lance supplied. A look came over Hunk’s face that made Lance feel suddenly embarrassed.

“Theo, the hot guy from Canada?” Hunk supplied. “The one who made you realize-- oh!” His eyes grew wide and his mouth froze in an ‘oh’ shape.

Lance was definitely blushing now, and he covered his face with the alien rock pillow. He was being ridiculous, but he knew he could be like this around his friend. It wouldn’t be the first time that they had a late night conversation about more than embarrassing topics. 

“Wait,” Hunk was saying, as much to Lance as to himself. “Wait, does that mean you are having-- you know… ‘bisexual’ feelings?” He put quotations around the word with his fingers, as if he wasn’t really sure what it meant. 

“Uuuugggh….”

“And if you are,” Hunk went on slowly. “Then... they are towards someone new?” He was getting to the point so slowly that Lance almost wanted to beat him over the head and tell him outright. But the embarrassment was still too much to handle. 

Hunk didn’t continue, so Lance peaked out from behind his shield. His friend’s face had frozen in a look of complete and utter shock. His eyes were wide and his mouth open wider than he ever thought possible. He might have been suspended in time.

“Hunk…?”

“NO WAY.” Hunk was on his feet, his hands balled into little fists in front of him. “KEITH?! WHAT EVEN. OH. MY. GOD. LANCE!”

Lance shushed his friend, not liking the way his voice was carrying through the room and probably the entire castle. Hunk did not sit down, but continued to mouth the words ‘oh my god’. Lance had to practically pull him back onto the couch.

“Please don’t make this worse than it is!” Lance whimpered.

Hunk seemed to recover after seeing Lance’s pleading gaze, but not enough to remove the shock from his face. “Lance, this is crazy, man. I thought you guys were, like, rivals!”

“We are. I mean, we _were_. I don’t know!”

“You complain about _him all the time_.”

“Because he’s a little shit. But… he’s also adorable. I guess?”

“OH. MY. GOD.” Hunk looked like he was not going to be able to get past his disbelief, and Lance was feeling exhausted from the conversation already. His head was swimming from the heat in his face. He sat back on the couch and hugged the pillow tight.

“I can’t help it, OK?”

Hunk was taking a deep breath, as if calming himself. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I’m supposed to be supportive, right? I can do that. Um…” He paused, as if thinking. “So… when did you realize you had a crush on your rival and teammate, and not to mention a guy?”

Lance glared at Hunk, who was at least half making fun of him. “It doesn’t _matter_ if he’s a guy. Remember Theo? You didn’t laugh at me then!”

“Yeah, but _everyone_ had a crush on Theo. _No one_ has a crush on Keith. Well, except you.”

“Real supportive, buddy,” Lance said sarcastically.

“Sorry.” There was a quiet moment where all they could hear was the electrical hum of the lights. Hunk was looking at the ceiling, apparently lost in thought. Lance let his own mind wander to Keith, his body tight under the healing suit and his hair sticking up at weird angles. He sighed at himself.

“Well, I guess you should tell him or something?”

“What! No!” Lance’s eyes went wide as he snapped to look at Hunk to see if he was laughing. But his friend was completely serious, his eyes raised in surprise at Lance’s quick denial. “That would make things _so much worse_!”

“I don’t know,” Hunk mused, leaning back on the couch. “He might be into it.”

“I seriously doubt--” But Lance stopped himself. He remembered something Keith had said incoherently in his concussed state-- something about ‘coming out’ to Shiro. Did that mean he was gay? The implications of those words suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks.

Lance stood up suddenly. “You’re right.”

Hunk looked mildly surprised. “I am?”

“I’m going to tell him.”

Hunk looked like he was regretting his suggestion. “Eh, maybe you should wait and see? I mean, we don’t want this ripping the seams of our already poorly constructed banner of teamwork!” 

“Too late, Hunk. If anything happens, it is all your fault.”

“Oh god. Oh please, no.” But the he paused and considered for a moment. “Please record it on video so I can watch.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patience yields focus, my lovelies.
> 
> Enjoy.

Lance decided to try to sleep that night-- ‘try’ being the operative word because he didn’t really managed much more than a few hours when he brain finally said ‘fuck you’ and blacked out. For all of his resolve the night before, his determination to confess to Keith crumpled under his own anxiety and he ended up in a ball of blankets instead. He woke up strung out and nervous, and the bad Altean coffee did nothing to soothe him.

“Lance,” said Shiro when he met him in the kitchen. He had obviously returned sometime in the night, and Lance was honestly relieved. He tried to show it with a weak smile. “I’m glad you guys are OK.”

“Yeah… no thanks to our spy lady,” Lance said grumpily, even though he knew it would gain him a scolding from his leader.

“Lance, you know why she had to leave you there…”

“I know, I know,” Lance said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was starting to get a headache that the coffee wasn’t alleviating. “For the sake of an alliance… Keith and I are capable of not dying… yadda yadda... Allura already gave me the shpeal.”

Shiro was frowning in a way that made Lance feel like he was disappointing him. He sighed, and turned to face the older paladin. “Sorry, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

“And night, apparently,” added Shiro, who could never stay mad at Lance. He was easily placated with an apology or a smile. “How’s Keith?”

Lance hated how much that name made his heart beat. He was already trying not to have a heart attack from lack of sleep without people springing it on him. “He’s fine. All healed up.”

“Then why are you so strung out?”

Lance eyed Shiro, trying not to meet his gaze. How _this guy_ somehow the most intuitive one in the group? Allura must have been whispering things into his ear. “I’m fine.”

Shiro sighed, as though he was giving up. “Lance, just go talk to him, will you?” 

“Why would I need to talk to him?” Lance retorted stubbornly, opening the fridge compartment and looking in it as if he was interested in its contents. 

“Because… we have a meeting in an hour and I need you to tell him so.” 

_Damn you, Shiro_. Lance thought, though he wasn’t really angry. Instead a creeping anxiety was travelling up his digestive system. He closed the fridge with a snap. “Alright, _fine_." 

It was not fine, he decided when he finally got to Keith’s bedroom door. It was closed, but he was certain that Keith was inside. He was still recovering, and would likely be making the most of the rare bit of downtime they had before the next job. All Lance had to do was raise his hand, knock on the door and tell Keith that he better get his butt out of bed, because they had a meeting and Shiro didn’t look like he had a whole lot of patience left. 

Knocking was the hardest part, he decided. No, _talking_ was going to be hard. _Seeing Keith’s face_ , actually, was going to be fucking impossible. 

Keith opened the door before Lance could do anything, and Lance let out a sound that ought to have belonged to one of the castle mice. 

“L-Lance,” Keith stuttered in that way that reminded Lance that he was just a big ball of nervous anxiety like the rest of them. He wasn’t wearing his jacket, and his hair was still sticking up at the back. Lance looked down at his hands and saw he was holding a comb. 

“Hair troubles?” It was the best he could do under the circumstances. 

Keith frowned and ran a hand down the back of his head, which did nothing to flatten the impossible rat’s nest. “I’m pretty close to chopping it off,” he muttered. It looked like his neck and ears were red, but maybe that was out of frustration. How long had he been trying to get that tangle out of his hair? 

“And you were… going to ask Allura for help?” 

Keith wasn’t looking up. “Or someone.” 

Lance put out his hand with an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, I’ll lend you my expertise.” He took the comb and pointed to the bed-- the only place in the room where more than one person could sit down. His mind was reeling at the implications of sitting there together with Keith, but Lance shoved the thoughts as best he could to the back of his head. He didn’t want to mess this up-- not when he was being presented with such a perfect moment. 

Keith sat down heavily on the bed, wearing a pout that somehow matched his messy hair. He looked younger than he was, though Lance was pretty sure he was his senior by a year. Before joining him on the bed, Lance paused at the desk. A little forgotten pile of bobby pins lay on top of a hair tie that Lance had borrowed from Allura. He scooped up everything and sat on the bed. 

“Turn,” he instructed, putting the tie around his wrist and readying his comb. Keith’s hair was a disaster, but at least it was clean. It looks like Keith had done little more than attack his hair forcefully, pushing the knot further down his head. It was going to take careful maneuvering to alleviate the situation without pulling out half of those black locks. And as much as Lance made fun of that mullet, he would sorely miss it. 

He started slowly, using the end tooth of the comb to pull out strands one by one. At this rate it would take hours to undo, but it was necessary to loosen the rest of the disaster. Lance tried to look at the problem like a puzzle, ignoring that the knot was attached to a person’s head. This might have been fine if it wasn’t for the warmth radiating from Keith’s back and the way his shoulders moved gently each time he breathed. 

Lance had to say something, because he was going to choke on the pressure in the air. “Shiro’s back.” 

Keith seemed to flinch, as if he wasn’t expecting the silence to be broken. _Well, too bad_ , thought Lance. _I don’t do silence_.

__

__

“Is he OK?” 

“Yeah, no problems. He’s taking Allura’s side, of course. They trust the Horocron’s through and through.” 

Keith shrugged, a motion that was much less aggressive than Lance would normally expect. He seemed surprisingly relaxed. “Della did what she had to do. She’s got her own people to think about.” 

Lance tugged on a particularly stubborn knot, making Keith grunt. “What ever happened to not trusting them?” he said, savouring the goosebumps that prickled over Keith’s uncovered neck. “You were right about something going wrong.” 

“We survived, didn’t we?” Keith insisted in a quiet way. “Like Allura said, we had each other’s backs. They trusted us to take care of each other.” His skin seemed to flush a little more red, a stark contrast to his usual pale complexion. Lance resisted the urge to brush his knuckles against that smooth neck. 

“Yeah, you owe me one,” he said with a lame attempt at a smirk. Keith didn’t owe him anything-- Lance would have done it again in a heartbeat. 

“I’ll do your hair sometime,” Keith said in a rare display of humour. Lance couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face. 

“My hair is immaculate,” he boasted. “Unlike yours.” He gave another playful tug, which in fact helped to loosen a large chunk of the nest. Bits of loosened hair were sticking out lazily, frizzy from their recent confinement. It wouldn’t take long for the knot to be free, and Lance regretted the moment wasn’t going to last longer. He was going to have to face reality when it was over, and he was losing his resolve. Wasn’t this OK? Couldn’t he stay like this forever-- rivals-turned-friends with a rare moment of bonding? 

“Almost done?” Keith asked in a quiet voice, turning his head slightly to look at Lance through the very corner of his eye. Lance swallowed and sighed inwardly. He wasn’t sure how long this could go on, after all. 

“Yeah, hang on.” He aggressively combed out the rest of the knot, making Keith squawk in protest but finally releasing the rest of the hair. Lance ran a the comb through the full length of black hair with some satisfaction. He ran his other hand through as well, feeling the soft silky texture in between his fingers. He allowed himself a few more strokes, out of sheer guilty pleasure, before putting down the comb. 

“What now?” asked Keith, but Lance shushed him. He started at the top of his head and began a braid, the same as sort his sister had taught him to do. She forced him to do it before any big game, and he got surprisingly good at it. That, and the skill of chasing small children and pulling their hair into quick, messy pony-tails, were his specialties. 

Somehow Keith didn’t protest and Lance was able to get all the way to the back of his neck. It was messy and lopsided and his sister would have yelled at him, but somehow it suited the stubborn, unpredictable red paladin. “Turn around,” Lance instructed afterwards. Keith shifted on the bed, turning to face him but keeping his eyes on his own hands. Lance’s heart gave a leap when he saw how red his face had become. He had to take a breath before finishing his work: he pulled those long, dark bangs out of Keith’s downcast eyes and pinned them to the top of his head. 

Lance had a hundred things he could have said to fill that moment. He wanted to make fun of Keith’s hair, or tease him about his inability to maintain it without any help. He might have made a joke about Shiro and Allura or wonder what Hunk might have made for their meeting meal. Lance was very seldom out of things to say, but his breath was held by the sight of Keith, looking stubbornly embarrassed with his hair done up. 

Keith raised his gaze and looked at Lance with what might have been a glare. “Stop that,” he said finally. 

“Stop what?” 

“Looking so _serious_.” He put up a hand and actually covered Lance’s eyes. Far from making Lance less serious, he found himself holding his breath from the contact. But the next thing that happened didn’t help either. In fact, it made things so, so much worse. And infinitely better. 

He felt soft lips meet his in a slow, lingering kiss that didn’t pull away for several seconds. When they did, the hand was snatched away as though it had been burnt. He opened his eyes with amazement to see Keith burying his own face in his hands. 

“Sorry,” he said in a muffled voice. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” 

Lance opened his mouth to speak, but the words were caught in his throat like a wad of space jelly. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing. 

“Jesus, please just forget that happened,” moaned Keith, who looked like he wanted to roll into a little ball and escape down a ventilation duct. 

Lance had to say something. He had to use his voice to remind himself that he was really here and that this wasn’t a dream. “You... you jerk,” he said finally. “I can’t believe you actually beat me to it.” 

Keith looked up sharply. “What?" 

“You were first. As usual.” He was trying not to grin but it was so hard with his insides swelling up like the tide on a glorious sunny day. “Don’t think I’ll let you get away with this.” 

“I-is this some kind of competition to you?” Keith said in a tone that was somewhere between frustration and embarrassment. Lance allowed himself to grab the guy and pull him into a hug that did so little to express his feelings, but was impossible to avoid. Keith yelped a protest. 

“I’m teasing you, dear,” he said into Keith’s neck. He was vaguely aware of Keith cursing at him and struggling against the unnecessarily tight bear hug. Lance rubbed his face into his neck, his joy palpable. 

When he pulled away Keith’s hair was rumpled and his face in a delicious pout. Lance leaned in and returned the kiss, finally, because in truth he was not going to let Keith get away with being the only one with the balls to take a step forward. It was met with no resistance and Lance allowed it to linger as long as he could. 

They were interrupted, as usual, but a buzz over the comm system. “ _Lance,_ ” came Shiro's voice. “ _The meeting--_ " 

“ _LANCE_.” This time it was Hunk. “ _LANCE THIS IS HUNK. HOW DID IT GO?_ ” 

Lance grinned sheepishly as Keith, who looked like he wanted to either murder someone or fling himself into the vacuum of space. 


	14. Chapter 14

Della looked entirely alien sitting at the table in the dining hall on the Castle of Lions. Not because she was green, or because of her ears, as many other alien species had been welcomed before her without bat of an eye. It was instead the way she sat up straight and carried herself with an air of dignity that was even above any Altean princess. _No, she's not dignified_ , Keith decided after watching her with scrutiny, _stuck up_.

All eyes, however, were not on their Horocronian ally. Keith could feel every person in the room watching him as he entered. He had hastily pulled the pins out of his hair, letting his bangs fall back as usual, but his hair was still braided. He tried not to feel more embarrassed than usual, and failed.

“About time,” Allura said, and thank god for her. She had the decency to not mention the thing that everyone else was dying to mention. “Boys, sit down so we can commence.”

“I see some of your have decided to finally join civilized society,” Della said as they took their seats. Everyone looked questioningly to her. There was a pause, and then Pidge offered a loud and forced laugh. The rest of the crew dissolved into giggles, except Allura, who was rolling her eyes.

Keith forced himself not to look at Lance. Instead he covered his face in his hands and waited for the red, hot feeling in his face to subside.

“Della,” Allura said loudly so that the others took the hint to quiet down. “We hope that the plan has not been altered since yesterday’s incident. Has shipping begun to the rebellion?” 

“That is correct,” Della answered in her short way. “In fact the interception by the Galra provided a better cover than we expected. This way the paladins escaped on their own.” She did not even deign to look in Keith or Lance’s direction. “I come on behalf of the rebellion to thank you for your part in this plan.” It seemed like a weak, hollow thanks, but Allura looked happy with it.

“If ever the Horocronians need our assistance again, we will be ready,” she said with confidence. 

“That brings me comfort,” Della said, though she looked no more comfortable than usual. She stood from the table, prompting them all to leap to their feet. “I bring you a gift, as humble as it is.” She gestured to a few black crates marked as Galra shipments. “We intercepted these some time back. At first we did not know what we had found, but upon meeting your Earthlings, we discovered their origin.”

The team was starting to crowd around the boxes, and Keith was no less curious. Coran handed a crowbar to Shiro, who worked off the top of the nearest crate. It hissed open, releasing the sealed air.

“Are you _serious_?” Lance exclaimed.

“Holy shit,” Hunk agreed. They both looked jubilant.

“These are…” started Pidge. She reached in and pulled out something golden packaged in a plastic wrapper. 

“TWINKIES.” Hunk was crying real tears as he took a handful of the packages and held them close like they were his newborn children. Lance’s expression was not much different. He was already tearing a package open and taking a bite.

“This is the best day of my life,” he said around a mouthful. Keith allowed himself a indulgent moment of watching his expression. 

“I am going to reverse engineer the _shit_ out of these,” Hunk went on.

“We have to divvy them out,” Lance was saying, already counting the remaining Twinkies, of which there were likely hundreds. “Obviously if you don’t want them, speak up now, because these are my ultimate comfort food.”

“I am expecting my fair share, if only for bargaining,” Pidge said. 

“Please, take mine,” Shiro was saying with a mild look of disgust on his face.

“What are they?” asked Coran while stroking his beard. “They look like they came out of the back end of a Pillgnonian.”

“They taste like it, too. Believe me.”

They continued to bicker over the shipment while Allura made her farewells to Della and set a course to leave the system. It would be a relief find a place where they didn’t need to hide and dodge Galra patrols, and plan their next move in relative peace. Keith was looking forward to a full day of no missions or trips to the medbay. 

He was looking forward to a day of being with Lance.

He found him in the kitchen later that day, sitting on a countertop and looking at a Twinkie like a jeweller considering a diamond. When he heard Keith’s approach, he looked up as though startled. Then his face melted into a self conscious sort of smile. The bite he took of the food was likely out of nervousness.

“I’ve never had one before,” Keith admitted as he approached the other paladin. “Dad never bought any prepackaged stuff when I was a kid.”

Lance picked up the package and squinted at the fine print ingredients. “I don’t blame him. I mean, these aren’t exactly good.”

“You and Hunk were practically drooling over them.”

“Yes, but that’s because they taste like nostalgia. They taste like Earth.”

Keith considered this as he watched Lance’s face fall into a serious expression again. “You know, Lance,” he started, trying not to feel embarrassed. “If you ever feel homesick you can come talk to me. I mean, if that helps.”

Lance was grinning through his mouthful of Twinkie. “I’d like that.” He chewed for a moment, looking down at the package again. “Do you think we could… you know. Like, kiss and stuff?” He was flushing again, and Keith was finding it hard to concentrate. He wanted to kiss his stupid, Twinkie-filled face _right now_. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he answered lamely, feeling the heat in his own cheeks. “I’m going to train.” He turned away, because he was having trouble remaining serious. “If you want to find me later. Maybe bring my share of the Twinkies? Like, to my room.” Wow, real smooth.

He didn’t need to turn back to know Lance was grinning.

\------------------

Lance resisted the urge to go watch Keith training. He pretended like he had some Very Important Work to do and spent an unnecessary amount of time sorting out all the Earth goods they had received from Della. It turned out to not just be Twinkies, though they were the bulk, but also a random collection of prepackaged goodies that looked like a convenience store shipment. There were also chips, jerky, gum, and chocolate bars. There was even a little package that looked like a medicine cabinet: extra strength acetaminophen tablets, bandaids, travel-sized toothbrushes, little pairs of nail clippers and pink bottles of stomach medicine. Lance marvelled at this piece of Earth culture and felt a happy buzz in his head.

Or maybe that happiness was for another reason.

He ended up loitering in his own room for almost an hour, listening to the sounds in the hallway that would mean that Keith was heading back to his room. He had a little bag of Twinkies counted out, as well as a selection of other treats that he thought Keith might like. It was a poor attempt at a bouquet, but it would have to do.

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he heart those tell-tale steps, and he forced himself to count to 30 before bursting out of his room. He caught Keith like a deer in the headlights, which was OK, because it was one of the expressions he treasured the most. He was starting to treasure all of his expressions the most.

“How was training?” he asked like a mother at the dinner table. 

“Good,” answered Keith, opening the door to his room. “You should come with me next time. You could use the training.”

Lance opened his mouth in exaggerated offense. “Hey! I am in top physical form, thank you very much.”

“Not if you keep eating those.” Keith was referring to the bag of Twinkies without even looking at them. Lance tossed the bag on the desk.

“They’re for _you_ , you grouch. I gotta fatten you up so that you stop beating me in simulations.” And for a little more to hold onto.

Keith shrugged out of his jacket and smoothed down his hair. He had showered recently, and Lance could smell the Altean shampoo drifting off of him. He stepped closer tentatively, wanting to take in Keith’s aura. His skin was tingling at the tips of his fingers and the back of his neck. The closer he got the the back of the red paladin, the thicker the air seemed to become.

“Keith,” he started, and his voice sounded heavy. He wanted to break the tension with a joke or a jab, but his desire to jump directly onto Keith was far more strong. He felt like a hunter stalking his prey-- as if his quarry would flee if he moved too quickly. 

Keith turned to face him, and he was red already. He looked only a little annoyed, which served to make his mouth turn in a small pout and his brows knit together in the middle. It was an expression that made Lance want to smooth him out with his hand. He reached out and touched a one cheek with his thumb-- a tentative touch, but one that sent sparks up his hand and arm. His breath came out raggedly and he stepped forward again to close the gap.

There was something to be said for a mutual kiss. It meant that both parties involved were actively working to make the experience enjoyable. There was no resistance or hesitation, and the eagerness of both paladins accelerated the moment tenfold. They were stumbling backwards, hands on hips or faces or chests, fighting to remain dominant but also making allowances for the other. Lance let out an embarrassing, pleasurable sound when their mouths opened and tongues met. Keith was no better, and Lance’s head was spinning from the shy little moans that were humming in the back of his throat. 

They only stopped when Keith actually tripped backwards onto the bed, Lance falling forward and catching himself with hands on either side of the other paladin. “Sorry,” he mumbled, not sure if he was actually sorry or if it had just been too long since he had last spoken (or taken a breath). Looking into Keith’s eyes, he hesitated, because this was all happening too fast. “Is this weird?”

Keith frowned slightly, narrowing his gaze. “Two guys making out in a castle space ship billions of miles from every other human on Earth; of course it’s weird.” He averted his eyes then, looking self conscious. “But I like you, Lance. And I don’t want to overthink this.”

Lance felt a rush of emotion that made him want to start hugging again. Instead he dropped on the bed beside Keith and ran a hand through that damn hair. “I like you too, buddy.” 

“Then shut up and get me a damn Twinkie.” Lance obliged, because he had no problem with Keith owing him one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, that's the end. I'm such an asshole.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to poke me at lanceylanceface on Tumblr! 
> 
> FUCKING FANART: (SPOILERS) https://uragirinoteme.tumblr.com/post/164640473712/based-on-a-cute-scene-of-this-fic-seriously-just


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